


Meeting Spider

by Angeltigerdragon



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Childhood, First Meetings, Fluff, Friendship, Growing Up, Superfamily (Marvel), Superpowers, Training, Young Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2018-08-15 15:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 36,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8061055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angeltigerdragon/pseuds/Angeltigerdragon
Summary: The way Peter becomes part of the family: stressful, surprise, and fun times ensue. Also, there is more to the boy than both Iron Man and Captain America  had first thought. Keeping certain parties at bay will not be easy.





	1. The Unintended Meetings (part one)

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to not include X-Men. I will have some of them, but with different reasons for their powers. I am unsure how long this work will be, but it has a lot of stuff coming.

Hiding Peter was not intentional; in fact the decision was never vocalized. However, it became a necessary after Tony finally got Peter’s medical records and found some oddities.

Peter was born three months before his due date. He was less than a pound and five inches. And blind with possible deafness. The records end there until a year later where Peter is noted as a healthy, normal baby with near sightedness and asthma. The rest are marked classified, until Peter is under Ben Parker’s care.

Tony knows this is something SHIELD or whatever they call themselves would want to know (probably already have a file) and he shows it to Steve.

Nothing is said, but after the first few months, they do not mention Peter to anyone, which is hard when that includes spies, a Norse God, a guy with wings, a Hulk who _lives_ with them, and Agent Coulson’s pitiful look when he sees them.

Their friends do notice they are happier. Tony thinks it is because they believe he and Steve have gotten over their “mourning period.”

But as secrets go, and children, to Steve and Tony’s surprise and horror, do not stay in one place.

* * *

 

Bruce awaits his ascent to the penthouse. Tony said he was watching movies with Steve, so Bruce has spent more time in the lab alone more than usual. In his leisure time, he has found a way to make some new synthetic material, such as spandex, durable and slightly bullet-proof. He needs to poke the idea with Tony and the man’s ever growing tech skills.

The elevator stops and Bruce huffs. It was Natasha’s insistence that the married couple add a doorbell of some kind to their home; of course, Bruce is one of the few who has not seen them making whoopee.

Before he presses the button to alert the residence, Bruce swears he hears a different voice from JARVIS.

Young master, please, do wai—

The doors slide open and Bruce’s brow furrows until he sees a holographic stuffed bear and a boy looking up at him.

The man stands frozen.

The boy smiles and holds up a place sign.

MY DADS ARE STILL SLEEPY. WE ~~WACH~~ WATCHED MOVIES AND SLEPT ON THE COUCH.

He holds up another one.

MY NAME IS PETER PARKER-STARK-ROGERS. NICE TO MEET YOU.

                “I-I’m Bruce. Banner. Bruce Banner,” Bruce stammers. The boy nods and holds out his hand.

Bruce takes the hand, so miniscule to his own, and lets the child lead him.

The hologram follows for a bit. It has a bothered look on its face.

Tony and Steve are laid up on the couch, a fuzzy blanket covering them. Steve’s hair is disheveled and there’s drool on his face. Tony is cocooned in Steve’s mass and snores quietly. The TV screen is paused on what looks like Bill Nye screaming. Bruce just nods at the scene and glances at the little boy, in Hulk jammies no less, returning to the TV. The screen comes back and the volume is low so the two on the couch are still sound asleep.

Bruce’s astonishment wears off; he gently nudges Steve’s shoulder and waits for the soldier to wake. Steve snorts and mutters, “’ust fovemore minits, son.”

Bruce gasps and stares at the little boy. He knows his friends wanted a child, but something is wrong here and Bruce would rather ask questions later.

Steve wakes and stares open mouthed at Bruce.

The man feels Hulk’s ire build but quells it. He cannot scare the boy if he’s to carry him out of here.

                “Wait, Bruce,” Steve scrambles out of the couch, waking Tony who yelps at Bruce’s presence. “We can explain.”

Tony gets up and runs to Peter. He stops as the boy looks up worried. Tony bends down and picks him up, taking him away and whispering insistently. It sounds, “remember, don’t open the door without me or your pops.”

                “Start spilling,” Bruce says, glaring at Steve.

A few hours later, with coffee in hand, Steve has finished a story worthy for Hallmark. Bruce is skeptical, but Tony squashes it with the digitized documents of Peter’s adoption and obituaries.

                “There’s some sketchy stuff you and I need to tinker in,” Tony says and he reveals the medical documents. There is also a detailed but shady of one Arthur Parker.

                “So, the kid has some hidden secrets,” Bruce says.

                “Yeah, and by rights he shouldn’t be alive. I know the father was working at OSCORP for years in pharmaceuticals; he also had a hand or two in other products, like the animal testing. Specifically with arachnids.”

                “I see that,” Bruce says, shifting through the file.

He looks at the two and the hidden tension is like a highway sign. Bruce sighs and rubs his temples. The Other Guy is under control and will not be popping out, but that does not make this situation less stressful.

                “Guys, what do you want me to do?”

                “Not lie,” Tony blurts out.

                “Don’t tell.”

                “Wonderful,” Bruce exclaims. “How do I keep this? I can’t lie.” He gestures to his FitBit, which is staying a steady beat so far. “And Barton keeps bugging me. The man literally comes out of the vent just to see me.”

                “We’ve been able to keep it quiet,” Steve says.

Bruce sees the jibe because if anyone is worse at lying on the team, it’s Steve.

                “Because everyone thought you moved on,” Bruce says.

He regrets it a little, seeing the two wilt.

                “I know too far,” Bruce says.

                “No. You have a reason to be suspicious. I…I wasn’t well before,” Steve says.

                “You missed one hell of a party with me,” Tony says deadpan.

Bruce was informed on all pertinent details and cringes at what he recalls. The silence lapses when JARVIS, in Pooh’s voice yells, Master Peter, get down from there!

The three rush to Peter’s room. Bruce notes it’s the one right across from Tony and Steve’s room.

The door is ajar and they fall in; Peter is standing on his rocking chair, which teeters dangerously, until Steve gets up and grabs him.

                “Peter! You frightened us,” Steve says. “Spider monkey, you’re not supposed to climb on that chair.”

Peter eyes are cast down and he nods. He leans up to Steve’s ear and Bruce knows he says “sorry” by the way the blond nods. Tony is next and he takes Peter to the bathroom.

                “You stink in more ways than one, kid,” he mutters.

Bruce just relaxes, recumbent on the floor.

* * *

 

The next person to meet Peter is none other than Heimdall.

When the portal to different worlds was opened, Jane Foster and Dr. Selvig found a way to neutralize the power and make it open exclusively to Asgard, by Thor’s request, and many diplomatic compromises with his father. It was then decided to hide in Avengers Tower, since the tower has no true affiliation with SHIELD.

Tony is down there with Bruce and Peter, playing with the bullet-proof spandex.

They are arguing colors when Peter, being the precocious boy he is, goes to the shining circle and walks in; the door is left open on most occasions because only Thor ventures through it and back.

Except for today.

* * *

 

Heimdall in all his millennia is dumbstruck when a Midgardian child appears. The god stares at the boy, losing some concentration of other worlds. He finds his voice eventually, but that is after the boy comes up to him and says in a Wisp’s voice, “Hurt?”

                “No, child,” he squeaks. Heimdall coughs and continues, “How is it that you come here?”

The boy points to a place off to the side. Heimdall sets his everseeing gaze to it and watches as the man of iron argues with another on coordination in color scheme. Heimdall smirks and shakes his head. Truly the Midgard of old has changed. He glances at the boy who still looks at him. Heimdall is about to speak until he feels his power stretching out. Heimdall gathers himself to transport some delegates for a conference the AllFather will hold. When all are there and heading out, it takes Heimdall longer than he wants to see the young boy has vanished with the crowd.

                “Oh, Odin save me,” he says.

* * *

 

Volstagg as he goes to market with his brood sees the oddest thing. A child, obviously not of here, stands on the fountain in the city and looks around the crowd. He seems to search for someone, but his face is red and his features hard. Volstagg hums and his youngest son nudges him to continue for the things they need.

                “One moment,” he says.

Volstagg looks around like the boy, but he sees no one searching for a lost child.

                “Alaric, take Rolfe with you to market. I have some unintended business,” he says and gestures to the boy. Alaric follows and agrees, taking Rolfe by the hand.

Volstagg walks to the boy and smiles upon seeing the red face with dried tears.

                “Do not fear, young one. Am I Volstagg, the Bear of Asgard, and one of the Warriors Three, protégé of the Mighty Thor. And you, young child?”

The boy stares. He tweeds his thumbs and Volstagg takes a closer look at the clothing. It is of Midgard, he realizes. The boy looks up at him.

                “Peter,” he says.

Volstagg nods and awaits more; nothing comes.

                “I am afraid ye must speak for me to be of assistance.”

Peter sniffs and gets down. He holds his right hand out and makes a sign with it. It takes Volstagg a minute to understand. Peter is writing in the air.

                “But, ye can speak. Have spoke. Surely…”Volstagg trails off looking at the anguished face of the boy. Peter shakes his head.

                “It shall be done,” he says.

Later, as Rolfe draws with Peter, Volstagg wonders why he agreed to buy parchment and ink when he does not understand the Midgardian word. Peter wrote some signs, but neither Volstagg nor his wife can read it. So, Rolfe and Hildy, his youngest daughter are attempting to communicate through pictures.

There has been nothing to yield so far. The drawings are of two men and one elderly woman; there are houses and rooms, but Volstagg cannot decipher the meaning.

And then, when all hopes of language seem lost, Peter draws a symbol. It is the Midgardian call for their warriors: the Avengers.

                “Oh, by Odin, you are the child of Midgard’s heroes. Which ones?”

Peter points to a parchment and then the picture of two men. Volstagg  tries to remember the tales of Thor and his adventures. Names are tricky and the pictures are simple.

Peter understands because he draws above the two men symbols. The tall one has a star in a circular design and the next is a mask of some craft with rectangular features.

Volstagg and his wife hum.

Hildy is the one to recognize the symbols.

                “The Man of Iron and the Good Captain America, papa,” she says.

                “By Odin, Hildy, you’re right.”

                “What shall we do, my Bear?” asks Volstagg’s wife.

                “Simple, I will bring the young Peter to Thor, where he shall return him home,” Volstagg says proudly.

                “But papa,” Alaric says. “Are not the royal family entertaining?”

                “Aye. However, Thor will not be pleased to know one of his Midgardian brethren have lost a child. Thus, I will tonight, ask for an audience after the festivities. And you.” He points to Peter. “Young Peter, must be our guests till then.”

Peter smiles nervously. Volstagg understands, the boy wishes to return, but only Thor is allowed through the portal unless given permission by one Leader Fury.

                “Ye will return,” Volstagg promises and Peter’s smile becomes relaxed.


	2. Unintended Meetings (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For "Thor: The Dark World" I have it Loki survived ( as he did) but instead of impersonating Odin, he escaped. He will not be making an appearance for a while, also, there is a lot of switches in P.O.V so bear with me.

Peter watched as the loud family ate the feast. He had learned that word from Pops. The table was filled to the brim with pork, chicken, beef, and something that looked like a ferret or raccoon. He popped small bits into his mouth and listened to the people. Peter rubbed the drawings he held in his lap. He wondered if he was not in another country. The door was in the Tower so it should not have left New York. He was confused and wanted his dads.

The big man, Volstagg, noticed him looking down and Peter felt bad. He did not want to ruin their happy feast. He smiled his best and took a big bite of the ferret/raccoon. It tasted like the duck Daddy brought home after Pops burned the coq au vin.

                “We shall be with an audience soon, young Avenger,” Volstagg said.

Peter nodded. He hoped his dads were not worried. Aunt May was always worried and Peter did not want his dads to be like that; Peter did not want to be alone.

* * *

 

Thor, the Mighty God of Thunder, First Son of Odin, and Avenger had little he did not revel in; meeting unamused and hard to please diplomats was one of the times he wished to be on Midgard. He was lucky to have Jane there. Friend Tony opened the portal and he saw to her personally. They greeted each delegate as should be done. Frigga stood off to the side, majestic as to be expected, with Odin on his dais.

It was monotonous. An interesting rumor did spread from the penultimate group; apparently, one of the delegates claimed to have a child in strange clothing appear and disappear at the gates.

Thor would have loved to investigate, but he instead sent Fandral and Lady Sif to do so; Hogun had diplomats to settle.

                “What was the child wearing, Your Grace?” Jane asked with the grace of a queen.

The man smiled good-heartedly at her, and then frowned. “I am not sure, My Lady. I myself have never seen such unusual garb. If my memory serves me right,” he said, placing a boy finger on his bearded chin. “It was…well it seemed to be that of modern Midgard, however that is impossible.”

Thor and Jane agreed. The rumor only lasted for the first few hours and was forgotten.

And then Fandral came in and announced, “There is a missing child!” Afterward, Lady Sif came running, covered in batter.

* * *

Fandral enjoyed women, no secret. Sif had seen him in many an affair and triangle. But the man was uneasy with children. As was her; although Sif hid it better than Fandral.

Scouring the city for a boy in strange clothing was a tedious task and not fruitful. Best was that he had been returned to his family and worst…Sif felt a shiver go down her spine at the worst. They continued in their search until Fandral charmed a young seamtress.

                “Yes,” she said giggling. “There was a young boy at the fountain.” She pointed, showing her free hand, at the center fountain of the city. It was large and high with several spigots of water. “He was so small that I had assumed he was with the delegation. Then I saw this clothes, as is my profession, and I noticed how strange they were. But then, Lord Volstagg came and took the young boy with him. I believe…he said they were going to have an audience with Thor.”

                “Ah,” Fandral exclaimed. “Volstagg would be finished with supper and on his way there,” he muttered.

                “Yes,” Sif said, groaning. “All this time and the child was safe and on his way to the palace. Let’s us return before their supper is done. I am famished.”

* * *

 

Volstagg searched frantically. One instant the boy was standing to him and then one of the guards, a rude one by that, halted them and had the gall to question Volstagg and his presence. They quarreled for a bit until a smarter guard came to verify Volstagg’s claim.

That is when he noticed the absence of Peter. Volstagg is not even sure how the boy got away or where. The doors and columns were high and no mere mortal could pass them. He then reminded himself of how Peter was the son of Avengers.

                “By Odin, I will not let harm come to that boy or it’s my head!”

* * *

 

                “I agree,” said Heimdall.

The portal to Midgard was always strange. The man, Tony, had said it only could be opened at certain times of their day. It was closed now and Heimdall could not open it without causing a rift in the Bifrost. He prayed that it would open again soon, because young Peter was lost in Odin’s palace.

* * *

 

Peter climbed the walls after that knight started yelling. He knew it was silly, but he did not want to hear it. He climbed really high too, and lost his way in the dark. Peter did not fear the dark; he could see in it. He feared monsters. Peter shook at the fact he was lost and his friend was looking for him.

Peter crawled down the column and surveyed the large room. He then heard voices coming. Peter sprinted the other way in hopes of find his friend and getting home.

* * *

 

                “Shh,” Sif said. “Did you not hear that?”

Fandral scrunched his face and then picked up the quiet patter of feet running.

                “I do believe we have an intruder.”

They went ahead, weapons drawn. The sound was growing quieter and Sif searched for any anomalies among the floor and the air. When no attach was forthright, Sif made motions for the two of them to split up. Fandral nodded and headed to the east as she went west.

Sif walked for a bit, until she felt eyes on her. They were above her. With practice and ease, Sif jumped up and brought her rapier forth—

* * *

 

Fandral saw Volstagg trumping up the stairs and paused in wait for his friend.

                “Wait, o! Bear Volstagg, pray thee, what brings you here? Are you not off duty till the morrow?”

Volstagg panted as he said, “A child. I am looking for a child.” He then sprinted the rest of the stairs in the direction of the kitchens.

Fandral shrugged. “A child or chicken, perhaps. Although,” Fandral remembered that pretty maiden. What had she said? “Ah, yes. Volstagg had found the boy. Oh dear,” Fandral blanched. “He’s here and lost.”

He looked in the direction Volstagg ran. “The man is natural with children, I should go and warn Thor and Lady Jane of this.”

* * *

 

She stopped and shrieked upon seeing a small boy hanging upside down from the column. Sif sat frozen, her bottom had hit the floor, staring up at the small boy clinging on the column. From what Sif could see, there were no ropes holding him there. The boy crawled (CRAWLED!) down the column.

He did not come to Sif, instead he took the opportunity to jump and land, like Sif, on the ground on all fours and then ran to the kitchens not too far away.

 Once Sif was over her shock, she gathered herself and followed the boy.

The kitchen was in its chaos for the conference and the boy hid too well. The cooks halted in respect of Sif and bowed, but she was busy looking for the boy.

                “Have anyone seen a small boy come in? Strange clothing?”

The cooks had a collective shrug and the head chef, Walentyna, came and said, “Lady Sif, there has been no such child to enter these kitchens for weeks. Surely, y—”

                “Peter! Please, has someone seen a small boy!” Volstagg came in yelling. He was frantic, his fuzzy hair wilder, and he was panting.

A bowl of batter fell from one of the shelves on Sif’s head and she heard a voice, so soft, say “Volstagg.”

* * *

 

After the initial surprise of seeing Sif unkempt, Thor coughed and brought the attention to him.

                “Friends, I believe it is time for—”

                “Mighty Thor!” Volstagg came barreling in, a small child sobbing in his arms with guards trying to stop him.

                “Halt!” Sif demanded.

Odin and Frigga just watched with hints of amusement. Thor could hear them whispering, “so much better than last” and “marvelously hilarious.” Thor has lost the room and Jane smiled shyly up at him.

The guards and Sif argued more as Volstagg came up with the boy.

                “Mighty Thor, I seek an audience….”

Thor held up his hand. “You have mine and the room’s attention. Now, Volstagg, who is that boy?”

Volstagg straightened and nudged the child to let go. The boy came off him and wiped at his eyes. Thor looked down at Jane who had a worrisome expression.

The boy stood up and looked at Thor. He smiled.

                “Mighty Thor, My King and Queen, and Lady Jane,” Volstagg began. “I Volstagg the Bear of Asgard have the opportunity, ney, the privilege to introduce the son of the Man of Iron and Captain America.”

Thor’s eyes widened. He had heard of his friends’ trouble in getting a child. He looked at the boy and was gladdened that they found one.

                “It is my honor and pleasure to meet you, young one,” Thor said. He bowed to the boy. Jane got up and kneeled in front of him. “What’s your name?” she asked.

                “Peter,” he said.

Jane nodded.

Odin stood, Frigga behind him, and said, “Oh, Young Peter! Welcome to Asgard!”

Looking down, Odin’s grin turned into a quizzical frown. The boy had run behind Volstagg.

                “Hmm,” said Frigga.

She stepped down from the assembled party and kneeled, much like Jane. Thor decided to copy their stance.

                “Precious little one, do not fear. My King is simply joyous to know such warriors have a young heir interested in Asgard,” Frigga finished and held out her hand.

Thor watched as Peter slowly came up to Frigga. He looked from her hand to her face. Carefully, Peter took the hand and shook. Thor chuckled, as did his warriors and the crowd.

                “I see they do not teach the proper greetings,” muttered Odin. He smiled affectionately anyway as Peter let go and took Jane’s and then Thor’s hand in his tiny ones.

                “Come, sit,” Frigga said. She took the boy’s hand and Thor was reminded of the many times she did this for him and Loki.

Thinking of his brother a dark passage came to Thor’s mind. He let it go seeing Jane worried.

                “Let the festivities continue,” he announced.

* * *

 

The portal to Midgard opened to Heimdall’s relief…until one Captain America burst through and asked, “Where’s my son?”

Heimdall swallowed. He was saved by Thor’s booming voice.

                “Ho! Steve, friend, how can you hide such a boy from us?”

Captain America’s eyes widened within his cowl and he sprinted to Thor at the end of the gate. Heimdall breathed easy again.

* * *

 

                “Keeping Peter a secret was…not on purpose,” Steve groveled at the glares he was getting.

Peter had talked, in his way, and Thor knew how long they had him.

                “Be that as it may, it is considered an insult in Asgard to keep births _and_ adoptions secret. Why, the day Loki was brought we had a grand feast with performers and gifts for all. I was unable to attend the last,” Thor said with some tact. “However, Young Peter has been your ward for months. I do believe it is time to be mentioned. And his powers are extraordinary. Lady Sif has never been caught off guard as such, and by one so small,” Thor said, smiling at Peter.

Steve’s mind halted for a minute. He looked at his son, whose medical records were encrypted, and wondered what in God’s name had been done to keep this child alive.

                “I suppose we wanted to have him get used to us,” he said. “And, considering how great our track record has been, Tony and I agreed to keep it simple and hold off any celebrations.”

                “Nice try. Peter said his aunt gave him to you two,” Jane snorted. She held out several papers with Peter’s signs.

                “Indeed,” said Thor. His arms were crossed, but Steve knew the man wanted to hear about a party.

                “Peter’s birthday is coming soon. That’s when we’ll have everyone come over,” Steve said.

                “That is acceptable,” Thor said, grinning.

                “I’ll show you some good toy ideas,” Jane whispered.

Steve believed he was in the clear, and picked up Peter, whose eyes were heavy.

                “One more thing,” Jane said. “Peter isn’t mute and I don’t know what he’s been through, but…”

                “We haven’t been able to figure it out yet,” Steve said. “I gotta go before Tony comes flying through.”

Now all Steve needed was to figure out how to break the “party” to Tony.


	3. Interlude/Unintended Meetings (Part 3)

Peter screamed. Bruce backed against the wall when Peter shot up and crawled from the ceiling into the arms of Tony.

                “Bruce, hide it! Throw it away. Do something,” the man said, as Peter’s screams turned to body wracking sobs.

Bruce slid the needle in the lab coat pocket and took out the lollipop he had.

                “Seriously?” Tony grumbled.

He snatched it and, rocking Peter, began to hush the five year old. Peter’s sobs changed to sniffles as Tony soothed him. Bruce stood amazed. Yes, he never doubted Tony Stark could raise a kid, but witnessing it firsthand was incredible. The man in front of him could not be the same self-centered but lovable ass. Tony was committed to Peter and him alone in this moment.

                “Daddy’s gonna put you down, okay?” Peter nodded. “Good, and then he’s gonna shout at your Unki Brucie ‘til he cries like a b.”

Well, not everything changed.

Peter bolted out of the lab and went to find Steve.

                “You sure he’s able to find everything?” Bruce asked.

                “I know he can,” said Tony. “And what the fuck, Bruce? A freakin’ needle.”

                “What else do I use?”

                “I don’t know!”

They paused and glared at each other.

                “Have you been able to decrypt the medical files?”

                “For the most part. It’s not just his records, but scientific data and some of Dr. Erskine’s original notes. The public ones.” They stare at each other. “None of that explains the wall crawling.”

                “Yeah, but…”Bruce bites his lower lip. “Erskine’s serum was never replicated. At least, not like it worked with Steve. However, from the grapevine, others have attempted to recreate it using their own…methods. I looked up Dr. Parker. His work at OSCORP involved the regeneration of cells. He was invested with not only arachnids, but certain types of reptiles, like lizards, in how they could help with the human cellular repair. Of course, the testing was cancelled after it did not show the desired results…”

                “But, he may have found them, along with the serum and used it on his premature baby,” Tony finished.

                “Hmm-hm, but I can’t know for sure until I have some of Peter’s blood.”

Tony blanched.

               “I know it’s not ideal. The blood is the easiest way to make sure. Maybe do it when he’s sleeping?”

                “That can work,” Tony said. "But, let me see if Peter will do this again.”

The next day, Peter squirmed in his seat as Bruce came up with the cotton swab. Steve was there too, rubbing circles on Peter’s back. Bruce wondered if he was labeled as the “Bad doctor” in the poor boy’s mind.

                “Okay, now Peter, just close your eyes. It won't hurt but for a minute,” Bruce said cheerily.

Peter gave him an odd look, as Tony face palmed and Steve just shook his head.  Bruce sighed. The deed was done and he had enough DNA for him to run a good analysis.

Steve took Peter and Tony stayed behind to help. By help, he bugged Bruce and fidgeted the whole time.

It took a few hours, and then some tinkering, but eventually Bruce had his results.

They were extraordinary.

* * *

 

                “I don’t fucking believe this!” Tony yells. The files and videos were open and he demanded JARVIS take them off the screens surrounding him. Steve was pale next to Tony in the workshop.

They had Pooh-JARVIS  watching Peter and Tony wanted to run up there and tell his son that nothing would ever hurt him again.

He did not do that, because (a) he first had to calm down and (b) his dear husband would not let him take the first step. What Bruce said earlier rang back to Tony:

_“It’s incredible. Not only did Arthur Parker figure out Erskine’s serum, he added to it and took away some of the side-effects. Like sterility and the arachnid DNA not only enhances the cellular repair, it also gave Peter spider traits. That’s why Peter can crawl on things. His hands and feet have the selutes all spiders have and get this,” Bruce says in his nervous energy. “Peter can make webs. I don’t know how yet, but it shows that he has the glands for them and I think their located on his wrists, which can maybe work as spinnerets. Like I said, it’s a mystery….”_

Tony came back to Steve, kneeling between his thighs. On most days, this called for sexy times, but now it was a comfort to the man.

                “How could you do that to a child?” Tony croaked.

At some point his eyes watered and it spilled onto Steve’s face.

                “He’s ours,” Steve said, stern and confident. “Nothing and no one will hurt him again.”

Later, after coming back, finding Peter nodding off, taking care of night time rituals, Tony had the little lump of cuteness holding to his arc reactor and sound asleep. Steve was propped on one shoulder and he reached out a hand to grab Tony’s hand and squeeze it gently.

                “We’ve got him,” Steve whispers.

* * *

 

Pepper yawned. It was barely eight and she had a meeting Tony needed to get to; she huffed. He gave her the power after getting married, and yet for the board meeting _he_ has to go to, she’s still up earlier than she wants to be and holding Tony’s favorite Starbucks crap.

                “I’m CEO of a Fortune 500 company and I live in a Central Park penthouse with Sarah Jessica Parker as my neighbor, and I’m still his assistant,” Pepper mutters. She looks down at her key card, the only one which opens all the floors and entrusted to her and few others. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The elevator doors ping and Pepper steps out. At this hour, Steve should be in the gym or a run, and Tony’s in bed. She removes her stilettos to walk quietly down the hall. Before entering the “chamber of hot and ready love” as Tony so lovingly proclaimed it, Pepper pauses and glances at the door across the hall. A heavy weight settles in her; how badly these two wanted a child. Pepper sighs and enters.

There is boy on the bed and he is fiddling with some 3D models of…skateboards.

Peppers drops the coffee and slams the door shut. She then opens the one across the hall and finds it filled to the brim with childhood essentials. The toys they bought, clothes, drawings litter the floor and surfaces. The bed is messily made up and when she looks in the bathroom, there is tooth paste crusting on the sink. It’s Sesame Street brand.

                “Pepper!” Tony runs in and Pepper waits for him.

He finds her in the bathroom.

                “Tony,” she says, shaking. “Explain.”

Tony, who’s usually composed and suave, is now rumpled and anxiety is clear on his face. Pepper stands, fists clenched and waits again.

                “Sit down,” he says.

By the end, Pepper is calmer. The meeting has started and they are both late. The board will not question or accuse if _she_ did not show up. She looks at Tony, who is still in his sleepwear and navy robe. The boy, Peter, has not appeared.

                “We came up with…house rules,” Tony supplies.

Pepper needs nothing else; she fixes out her pencil skirt and stands up from the tiny chair. The table is a nice touch in the room.

                “I can’t say I’m not happy for you,” Pepper says stilted. “But, how could you do this to a kid?”

                “What?”

                “Tony, you and Steve are keeping him locked up. Like some doll. He needs to go to school and meet kids. You said his aunt’s dead, well have you guys kept anything from her?”

                “Yeah, a suit case…” Tony trails off. His eyes widen like he’s discovered a new solution.

He leaves the room, promising Pepper everything will be taken care of and he will explain further in an email. Pepper does her fire breaths and goes too; she needs to be with some regular people.

Pepper receives the email on her SmartPhone, and she almost weeps at what she discovers. Luckily, Happy is there for an anchor and he holds her through the whole ordeal.

* * *

 

Experimentation.

Steve thinks of it as he again attempts to send the e-vites for Peter’s party. Tony was not happy with that bit of information and the two realized they did not know Peter’s birthdate by heart. They do now, October 15th, and Tony has Steve handling all the party details.

He was not meant for this. However, as he frustrates over the people to invite (all adults) and the decorations (Halloween maybe) and the food (Peter likes most things) and the party favors (candy), he has time to space out and think of how his involvement with Project Rebirth and how, after decades, there are still those who want this.

Steve rubs his temples and sighs. Peter did not ask for powers. Peter was going to die. What did he do? He desperately wished to fight in a war and make a difference, at the cost of a normal life. And Peter is just a boy who does not even know what’s been done to him. He has an unhealthy fear of needles and will not spear more than three words.

Steve sees his fists are white and he cannot control his rage. But…the serum saved Peter. Saved a baby who did not have a chance; the child who is now Steve’s and Tony’s for good. What can he do?

Looking a gift-horse in the mouth will not change his love for Peter; the same goes for his husband.

A normal life? Who wants that? Steve returns to his computer and sighs. The email still has not sent.

* * *

 

The two scientist read through the notes and coded words of one Arthur Parker, everything there, including photos of Peter as an infant. The data is incredible and not much is left to discover besides how Parker got his hands on an unfinished vial of the serum.

“From what I can gather, Dr. Parker was able to get the notebook of Dr. Erskine, from a private vault. And he took all the spiders because they did not have any adverse effects. The lizards,” Bruce says, putting his glasses in place. “That strand of DNA could have mutated the subject further, making the cells exactly like that of a reptile.”

“So, whoever’d taken that one would have been turned into a giant lizard,” Tony says.

“Pretty much. The arachnid DNA was less volatile, but still had its impact,” Bruce says, remembering Peter crawling on the wall. “Parker got the notes and the partial serum, added the spider bits, and had to inject it in small doses, probably less than 0.01ml of serum. I could be wrong, but Peter would need to have an injection-or injections-twice a week for years to ensure he would live.”

After Bruce says this, he goes a bit pale. “This kid’s a survivor.”

Tony agrees as he checks where Peter is; Pooh-JARVIS and him are playing hide-n-seek while Steve sits at a desk and looks ready to give up all hope.

                “I think you’ve punished him enough,” Bruce says looking at the screen.

                “Nope, not until he begs for mercy…in bed.”

Bruce knows his skin is green with sickness as Tony’s shit eating grin widens.

* * *

 

Clint opens the windows to the kid’s room. The best part of living here is that unless he’s bugging Bruce or sparring with Steve, Tony forgets him completely.

By now, he’s heard everything and “borrowed” the contents of the suit case. He also “borrowed” Pepper’s laptop and read the email. Through all this, the only person to notice him was that kid.

The boy looked up from his drawing and Clint knew he was discovered. The boy then held up a sign that read _, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?_

_“Gathering intel,” Clint said._

_FOR WHAT?_

_“I don’t know yet, how about you?”_

_COLORING. THE LADY WOKE UP DADDY AND HE SAID FOR ME TO STAY. He switches signs. DO YOU WANT TO PLAY WITH ME?_

_“Another time. What’s your name?”_

_PETER PARKER-STARK-ROGERS_

Clint’s been crawling through the vents and Peter has not ratted on him once The kid and he kept bumping into each other as Tony and Steve  kept (wink wink) Peter secret. Clint understands, but he will be the last to admit he’s a little hurt by it; more by Bruce not spilling sooner. The party is coming soon, so he’ll badger the poor guy then, now he just wants to visit Peter. Clint jimmies the window open and steps into the room.

Peter is sleeping there tonight with his Pooh-doll clutched closely to him.

Stealthily, Clint gets closer and kneels at the bedside. A huge pang in his chest; this makes him think of his own son. Clint closes his eyes. If he were to pretend, he is in his son’s room at their farm, Laura coming in to tell him it is bedtime. His baby girl will be awake in a few hours, crying for attention, food, a changing.

A shuddering breath escapes Clint; he made the right choice, his family is safe and Laura can find a decent husband who will not disappear for months. Clint looks down at the sleeping face and whispers, “I’ll take care of you too, kid. Don’t ever forget how many of us love you.”

And soon there will be more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Party's next with all the gang and Fury. 
> 
> (I have reread the chapter and made a slight change I thought I had done earlier. The part where they take a swab of spit I change to a small needle of blood. I don't know how that got passed me.) Jan. 23, 2017


	4. Party! Everyone Meets.

The day of the party arrives and Steve is standing tall. Tony can see the small tremors going through his husband’s body. They invited Fury and Coulson.

Tony rubbed Steve’s arm to have him be less ramrod.

                “It’s gonna be fine,” he said.

                “Yeah,” said Steve.

They watched Peter closely as he looked around the room. Tony had reserved a room at Tavern on the Green. The Crystal Room seemed to suit for the best fit. It was not stuffy and had some varying color. Tony had told Steve of it when he had his tenth birthday here.

Peter would look up momentarily at the ceiling.

Both parents prayed he was not contemplating crawling up there; one chandelier alone would cost Tony an arm and leg. It was early in the afternoon still and the natural light from the bay windows helped with the setting.

Tony and Steve went all out on the Halloween theme. Pumpkins with spooky-silly faces sat on each table as a centerpiece. The normally white clothes were switched with black ones and the crystal flutes were exchanged for plastic goblets varying in color and design. Steve held one with an old fashioned green witch and her familiar on it flying over the moon on a broomstick. Tony’s was a mummy in pharaoh’s robes.

The room also had fewer tables and a more intimate arrangement with a small menu of pun induced kid foods and adult foods.

Steve still chuckled whenever he saw Dr. Jello and Mr. Hyde-berry.

Small ghosts and spiders hung from the chandeliers and this time, both parents caught Peter before he could start to climb.

                “No, no, little genius. Not here, not yet,” Tony said.

Steve turned around and inhaled as Peter waved to someone.

                “I see you’ve gotten a new addition,” said Fury.

Coulson stood off to the side and gaped. Steve smiled and hoped Tony would keep his head.

                “I see _you_ didn’t bring a present,” he retorted.

Fury pulled out a small package and smiled charmingly. Peter made a noise and hid his face in Steve’s neck.

Tony smirked.

                “Peter, he’s one of our guests. Don’t you want to say hello?” Steve cooed.

Peter shook his head. He whispered quietly, “Scary.” Tony nodded.

                “I’ll take that,” he said to a scowling Fury.

A table to the side of the others was placed for presents. Steve had insisted they let the guests take care of the gifts because they had gotten Peter so much in the few months, including the ones already in the room, and it seemed they were spoiling him. Tony placed the small package next to a rectangular box and a large gift bag.

Yeah, they were spoiling Peter.

The next couple of guests were Bruce, Jane and Thor plus entourage, and Clint, who said he did not need an invite because he would just follow Bruce.

Darcy Lewis was the first to speak.

                “Let’s get this party started!”

Jane rolled her eyes, but smiled. Dr. Selvig shrugged and brought a bag to the table. Thor cleared his throat and the room was on him.

                “In honor of this occasion, may the young warrior step for—”

                “Thor, I have something uh, um, oh this to discuss with you in the next room. We can go there right?” asked Jane to Tony.

                “Yep, you two go discuss,” he said, hoping Coulson was still stunned in the corner and Fury did not notice the veins in his neck.

Jane manhandled Thor out of the room into the second one and said, “Okay, so this my fault for not telling you sooner, but Fury and Coulson need to be in the dark about anything involving and his powers,” she whispered the last part.

                “Why is that? Is it not fortuitous for a family lineage in this world? Surely, the man Fury and Agent Coulson would find it a joyous occasion for their best to have an heir one day,” Thor said, confused.

                “Yes, but…oh God, help me. Don’t overreact please,” she begged.

                “My lady, I have never…” he trailed off when Jane gave him an upturned brow. “The House of Waffles was justified. Darcy said so that her Book of Faces and Mine Space thought it “vigilante” of me to bring that rude wrench down.”

                “I know you care,” Jane said, smiling sweetly. “However, Fury and Coulson, maybe Natasha, have to come and trust those two with a child first before anything gets out.”

                “I understand Jane.” Thor had a look on his face and said, “You do not believe them to harm young Peter. If that what Tony and Steve then I will assure them the leagues of Asgard on their side.”

                “I-I don’t know,” Jane said.

* * *

 

They returned to find the party in full swing.

Black Widow wore a chiffon dress with flats and a witch hat with cape.

Darcy was playing with Peter and another little boy around his age.

A man stood off to the side discussing with Tony; he looked related to the little boy.

Dr. Selvig was in deep professor mode with Bruce and Clint sat with them, snoring mockingly.

                “Someone shoot me, he actually did it,” said a scathing voice. The room turned to the door to see a man with greying hair and red shades. Next to him was a teenaged girl in a strict corduroy and pinned back hair. She, like the man, had a sour face and each held a bag of candy.

                “Dr. Pym,” Tony said cheerily. “Glad you could make you old coot.”

                “Well, you’d given me the only thing that could return me to New York,” he said in that same tone. “Apparently, someone gave you a kid. And the last invitation that assistant of yours sent was real too. Captain,” Pym nodded and he lost the unamused inflection to his voice.

                “Hank, how’s it been?” Steve asked.

Pym pursed his lips and said, “It’s gotten better.”

                “For who exactly?” said the girl.

                “Everyone, this my daughter, Hope. We’re pleased to meet you, but we only came by to drop these off,” he said.

During this, Peter had left his playmates and stood in front of the two. He held up his signs that introduced him and Pym grinned good-naturedly. Hope nodded and handed the bags to Peter.

                “Happy birthday kid.” She leaned in and whispered, “Look out if you’re parents decide to send you away.”

                “Angry,” Peter said.

Hope shot up and left, Pym behind her.

                “That was awkward. I think it’s time to eat rich free food in a fancy room,” Darcy announced.

                “Not yet,” said Tony staring at the doorway.

Norman Osborn saw their conversation ended and went to see his son. Harry was having a one-sided conversation with the Peter boy.

                “My daddy likes to bring me to his office so I can be the boss when he’s bored. I have all the pens hidden in my desk at home. The pens are for o’icial stuff like suing people who take money from daddy and try’na screw daddy out of business. There’s too a big chair only daddy and me can sit in ‘cause we’re important and big. My room’s filled with toys is yours?” Peter nodded. “We can play action heroes and villains, like Batman and Joker. I can read real good and I have a lot of comics because daddy gets me them when I finish a book. The books he gives me aren’t always fun. They’re boring,” Harry whispers loudly into Peter’s ear.

Norman hummed. It seemed a prosperous opportunity for Harry to be friends with Peter. Norman could have access to Stark Industries and Harry a good little playmate. However, he would never leave Harry alone with those people. Norman’s face twitched watching Stark all over Captain America. Yes, he would make sure Harry was never alone with them.

He looked around the room and saw the eyepatch glaring at him. Norman gave him a fake smile and returned to watching the kids.

Fury groaned. Coulson was doing no better as he almost ogled the Cap’s kid. He stood off to the side, like Fury, but still clutching that gift from the first party.

                “Coulson, there’s a table designated for gifts,” Fury said.

                “Y-yes, sir,” he said. He bolted for the table, careful to avoid the other guests.

Fury observed as it brought him closer to Peter. Coulson placed the gift down and returned promptly.

                “That was not an order, merely a suggestion,” Fury said.

                “I know,” said Coulson as his cheek reddened.

                “We’re here as civilians, Coulson, and I can’t help but see every vantage point a sniper or kidnapper could take,” he said.

                “Thirty three and counting, sir. However, I happened to notice several of the restaurant’s personnel to be agents of SHIELD off-duty. Also, that Agent Hill is not here.”

                “She’s our eyes today, besides an occasion without booze doesn’t do it for her,” said Fury.

Coulson chuckled and he looked again at Peter.

                “I’m afraid to get close to him,” Coulson said. “Like, if I did so, all their fears and disappointments from last year would return. It broke them, sir.”

                “I noticed you visited the same facilities not days after they left,” Fury said.

                “Yes. I know it’s against protocol and probably the law, but I just needed to tell those people what a mistake they were making.” He stops. “I tried to tell the Captain that it wouldn’t work overseas. Sir, I have never hated myself more than that moment.”

                “Don’t blame yourself; their cheering squad wasn’t into it either,” Fury said, glancing at Steve and Tony. Their faces are serene as they watch Peter with Ms. Lewis and the Osborn kid begin a game of thumb wars. “I think we doubted them too much.”

                “We did, Nick.”

* * *

 

Pepper never shows up. Steve squeezes Tony’s hand as they sit down to eat. The menus contain three items on each list. Steve knows Peter and Harry Osborn will order everything. Steve leans over and whispers in Tony’s ear, “Peter’s made a friend.”

Tony laughs lowly and says, “And we’re making an enemy. I’m going to hack into Osborn’s files at some point. Our advantage is he doesn’t know Peter’s his late associate’s son.”

* * *

 

Peter is laid up against Steve as the party ends. Little Harry is out too, and Mr. Osborn bids farewell.

Bruce comes to pet the boy’s hair. “I wish he let me this close when he’s awake. But, I guess till I’m no longer Dr. Needles that won’t happen for a while.”

                “Peter likes you.”

                “Yeah, honestly. He thinks you’re afraid of him,” Tony says from behind Steve in the chair.

Bruce smiles and leaves with Clint right after. “Tell him to wait for my lessons with that sling. It’s dangerous in the wrong hands.”

                “Yours,” says Steve.

                “I hope Peter liked my gift,” says Coulson.

Steve grins and looks down. Peter is clinging to the Captain Americat and Iron Mouse plush like a lifeline.

                “I think he does,” says Tony.

Fury nods and waits. Tony and Steve are confused until they both have an epiphany.

                “He loves yours too,” says Steve.

It is a simple kid’s explorer camera with lens extension.

                “Never know, might be something he catches before us,” Fury says.

Next is Thor and Jane.

                “I believe the gift is appropriate,” he says softly to not rouse Peter.

They had gotten him a telescope and astrological map with handwritten directions to by Heimdall for unclaimed (by Midgardian standards) constellations.

                “More than enough,” says Steve.

                “We can show Peter his Uncle Thor’s house,” Tony mocks good-humoredly.

Jane giggles and Darcy with Dr. Selvig is next.

                “I’m aware it’s a bit early and cliché but you can’t wait for scientific intrigue. And the lady at Toys’R’Us said it has the latest kid friendly experiments,” he says smiling shyly.

Darcy says, “Yep, and we still got the receipt if it sucks. That guy there was flirting me so I think even if Peter opens it we can return and get something better.”

Tony and Steve grin as they leave.

The last to leave is of course Natasha. Her gift was a book on children’s poetry.

She saunters to them and bends down. Steve slowly pulls Peter from him to Tony’s arms.

                “177A Bleecker Street,” she says. “You’ll find someone there who can help Peter. Director Fury advises extreme consideration before you decide to go. Also,” she stands straight. “I’ve never seen happier parents.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, to explain, there is no straight p.o.v and if the chapter is a bit confusing please tell me. I meant to put as a stream of views into people at a crowded place and to follow them as things happen. Also, the last bit, of course Fury has three agendas. Also, I realized I left out Sam Wilson. I will rectify that later on.


	5. A Doctor's Office

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest and say I know nothing of Dr. Strange but what Wikipedia tells me. So, just imagine him as any version you want, however, I do think of him as like a Vincent Price character, like in "The Raven", which I reference. So, hopefully I got the characterization, his powers, and magical things correct and that he sounds like he should in the comics.

The building is….wrecked. That is what Steve sees in front of him. He looks down at Peter who is staring awed and Steve believes he is missing something. Tony and him share a worried glance then step forward.

A large gothic, gargoyle infested mansion stands in front of Steve and he gapes. Peter runs up the stairs and jumps, waving at them as if to say “Hurry, we’ll miss.” Steve coughs and grabs Tony’s hand. They stand walk up the stone steps and knock the wide wood door with golden knobs.

It opens silently to an Asian man. He smiles serenely at them and nods.

Peter begins to head in before Tony places his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

                “Peter, the nice man in a dress did not invite us—”

                “Actually, Mr. Stark-Rogers,” says a crisp voice. Another man with a cape and medallion stands next to the other. He also smiles calmly and greets them with a nod. “My manservant, Wong, much like your son, speaks a language entirely his own. I am Dr. Strange and we’ve been expecting you for some time. Come in, young man, Wong has prepared some snacks in the parlor and I will speak with you before we begin.”

They follow them because they do not have anything else; Steve looks around the house and is happy Tony does not fight it. They would get lost in here for days.

The man, Wong, gestures for Peter to separate. Peter looks up at him for permission.

                “Go on,” Steve says.

Peter smiles, which splits his face and he hurries even though Wong has not gone far.

                “He is a lovely child,” Strange says.

                “What are we doing here?” Tony says, clipped.

Steve tries to rub his husband’s arm to soothe the man’s nerves. It does not help.

                “No, Steve, I need to know. We get here at what I assume is some advanced cloaking and then treated to this Vincent Price theater act. What the hell can you do?!” Tony snarls at Strange.

Strange stands there and hums. He is not mad or surprised at Tony’s outburst and he seemed to expect Tony’s short temper.

                “Mr. Stark-Rogers,” Strange begins. “I am neither a con man nor an agent of SHIELD. I also have no real affiliations with government or ulterior organizations. Simply, I am a man with talents that have ensured the safety of this world and others.” He pauses. “I also have a doctorate in neurosurgery from Sinai and am still licensed.”

                “And that helps us how?” Tony baited.

                “I am a master of magic and surgery,” Strange says without any impatience.

                “I think we’re going in circles,” Steve interjects before Tony opens his mouth again. “If Nat thinks he can help, and Fury advised her to tell us, then we need to listen to him.”

Tony is about to argue, but stops. He looks in the direction where Peter went and sighs.

                “Lead the way, Dr. Craven,” Tony says.

 

The house moves, Steve can tell it. Things change their position subtly and the doors appear from one point to another. He even sees one reverse the knob.

Strange has led them to a large, ornate office library. An oak desk sits in the middle with a leather chair Steve’s seen in retro-fit stores. A globe stands off to the side with a needle moving it, like a gramophone, and the room is well lit despite only having a fire place.

Steve and Tony sit across from Strange in the chairs.

                “Please tell me of what you know of Peter’s condition,” Strange says.

Tony purses his lips and Steve closes his for a moment. He tells what he knows and leaves out the parts Tony has to fill.

                “He didn’t see May that day, but he saw her at the funeral. He had this blanket and I guess it was from her because he dropped it in the casket,” Steve rubs his hair back.

Tony huffs and says, “We also discovered some unusual things in him. From what I found, Peter has a replicated version of the super-soldier serum that changed Steve mixed with arachnid DNA.”

                “I see,” says Strange and he places his hands in a prayer-like pose. “Have either of you gentlemen been fans of The Who?”

                “No,” Steve says and grabs Tony. The man is ready to jump and Steve wants to see this through.

                “Well, they made the original rock musical with _Tommy_ , which is about a boy who becomes blind, deaf, and mute. This happens after witnessing his father being murdered by his mother and her lover. And you say Peter was abandoned without explanation in the care of his much older relatives.”

                “Yes,” Tony says, tightly. “I believe all that was obvious. Also, we’re talking who made the sickest rock musicals, it was Queen’s _A Night at the Opera_.”

                “I apologize. What I mean to say is that perhaps Peter’s parents had given him similar instructions as a last request. Most children would not withstand weekly injections from premature birth to when they ended. This is not guarantee, but a theory. I must speak to Peter and ascertain what has been done. This will take some time and I will need your explicit consent.”

                “Why do need it?” Steve asks.

                “Because I believe it would be beneficial to do so without his parents present,” Strange says. This is the first time he has an edge to his voice.

                “No,” Tony says.

                “I’m sorry, but…we can’t leave Peter alone. Not like this. We’ve been present to all his appointments and this won’t be different.”

They stare off at each other, until Strange closes his eyes for a moment and rests his hands.

                “I will allow it and you must promise not to interfere. Otherwise, I cannot be sure of the results.”

                “Agreed,” they both say.

* * *

 

Stephen leans down to the boy and smiles. Peter has a quietness to him most children do not possess. He brushes the boy’s hair out of his face. Peter glances to his fathers and waves small.

The boy is trying to reassure _them._ Stephen hums again and uses his knowledge of Vishanti to try and see into the boy’s consciousness. It is not quite on level of telepathy, instead Stephen is watching lights and strands of events happen in someone’s perspective.

He can see the parents: an older man who is flustered and scared and a younger woman who has great sadness in her eyes. The man is carrying Peter and gently places him on the doorstep. The woman kneels and begins to kiss Peter on his head.

                “Please forget us,” she whispers.

Nothing. Light and faces pass in Stephen’s vision, until a night when another man, who looks similar to the father, standing out of the car and talking to a frightened youth. Peter squirms in his seat and uses his hands to unbuckle and hide under the seat. A sound he does not know but fears rings out in the boy’s ears, and then more lights.

Stephen digs further and hears a woman wailing.

                “Please, don’t speak to me, Peter,” she sobs.

Peter has never spoken before and he cannot, so he writes and reads.

Stephen let’s go of the boy. He looks to the parents and sees the protectiveness they share.

                “I must consult my Orb,” Stephen says and leaves them for the time being.

Wong is next to him as he enters the room. The Orb of Agamotto stands in the center of a room unfurnished, hidden in a glass dome. Stephen lifts it and looks into the orb for any signs in Peter’s future.

He nods and returns to see the two men holding Peter up as he looks out the window at the setting sun.

* * *

 

                “He will speak when the time is right.”

Tony groans. “Enough of the bullshit mysterious showman. Do you know what will help Peter?”

Steve pats Tony’s arm. “Please, Dr. Strange, any information we’ll be grateful for.”

                “My theory about a traumatizing experience was correct, but it goes back further. Peter has never spoken once—”

                “How is that possible?” Tony yelps.

“—before he moved in with his aunt and uncle. However, you both have heard him speak. I believe the serum may have been a factor in his vocal development, but without tests I cannot confirm. I have seen the boy’s experiences and peaked into his future. Peter will speak when he is ready and his powers will only grow in strength—”

                “What else could there be?” asks Tony.

                “—,which means he must be trained in them to learn to control and use wisely. I cannot define exactly what his abilities include, but I do know they will be spiderlike.”

                “Thank you,” Steve says.

                “Anything else?” Tony asks, exasperated.

                “Yes. Do not stress yourselves too much; you are good parents.”

Steve thanks the doctor again; he grabs Tony’s hand and they find Peter with Wong, who is holding a bag.

                “Extra cookies,” Peter says shyly.

They get in the car, where Happy smiles at them. They drive and on the way Happy pulls down the partition. He looks back at them and hands Tony a small box.

                “It’s from Pepper and me,” he says nervously. “We really did mean to drop by the party.”

Tony hands the gift to Peter. He opens it, excited, and it is a picture frame of the three of them on the couch at the Tower.

                “Pepper asks JARVIS for help,” Happy yells from the other side.

Tony keens softly and Peter hugs his side.

                “Tell her it’s swell,” Steve says.

                “It is,” says Tony and he holds Peter to him. “Really, really swell.”

Steve embraces the two and rubs circles into Tony’s back as he trembles slightly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, I have not realized this until now but I called Dr. Strange "Vincent" as in Vincent Price. I have finally corrected that mistake but cannot believe no one said anything :(


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, this is a fluffy filler chapter because I keep forgetting people and an announcement that I am taking a small hiatus from this fic because I am going to write a "Nightmare Before Christmas" crossover for the holiday season. I don't do horror.

A mistake is easy to do; just have enough on your plate and things slip past that you did not intend. JARVIS calculates this thought as he remedied the small errors his masters have made in regard to the little master.

So, a few weeks after the party and the doctor visit, Tony and Steve have yet to realize their error.

JARVIS, in his Pooh form, speaks with Peter about the issue.

                I WANT TO MEET THEM. MR. WILSON SOUNDS COOL AND DADDY LIKES ~~TOO~~ TO COMPLAIN ABOUT ~~ROADY~~ RHODEY.

                I believe so. But, your fathers have forgotten them, Pooh-JARVIS shakes his head. Oh, bother. It is a thing worse than a hefflelump in your honey, no?

                YES. I NEVER WAN ~~NA~~ T TO FORGET PEOPLE I LOVE.

Pooh-JARVIS nods. Well then, I will send the invitations soon in hopes of our friends quick reply.

 

That is where JARVIS welcomes James Rhodes and Sam Wilson into the building on a brisk first day of November. Master Tony smiles tightly because he did not have information until this morning and Steve has just returned from a run. Peter holds up his sign to welcome the new guests as Dr. Banner and Barton chuckle quietly from the couch.

The first thing said is by Rhodes.

                “You didn’t build yourself a kid, didja Tony?” He asks in jest. Rhodes bends down to Peter’s level and smiles wide. “Because I tell ya, no one’s giving such a polite kid to you.”

                “I take personal offense to that,” Master Tony grumbles.

                “Yeah, well, maybe Rogers had more to do with it,” Wilson says. He backs slightly closer to Steve. “I’m gonna just out and say it: kids kinda scare me.”

Steve’s eyes widen and Tony pushes forward to mock argue with Rhodes about the benefits of having a son modeled after Tony.

                “Really,” Steve whispers.

                “Mh,” Wilson says. “It’s just, they’re so small and dirty.”

                “So where we,” Steve retorts.

                “Sorry man. I don’t mean to offend, but me and kids never got along. Hell, my aunts never let me alone with my _own_ baby cousins. I’ll meet the kid and talk to him if he wants. I can’t be called in to babysit or anything,” Wilson finishes his confession.

Steve pats his shoulder. “Wasn’t asking for sitters. Trust me, we have five already offering and two who live with us. If you’re uncomfortable you don’t need to do anything. But you’ll come around,” Steve says with a smirk. “Not that you’ll completely change, but Peter’s kind of special in his own way. He’s hard not to love.”

* * *

 

Fortunately, the rest of the day went quite well. Peter and Rhodes had an intimate discussion of Tony’s beard and even followed with some pictures Rhodes had saved up on his phone.

Wilson, as stated, remained in the background, mainly the kitchen, and heard small tags of talks from the rooms. Steve would rotate with Barton on keeping him company, but eventually he gave them the permission to go ahead and stay with Peter.

He sighs and gets out another juice box. Wilson realizes the alcohol and sodas are stashed behind the bar where Peter cannot get to them. He sips the apple-mango and plays _Snake_ on his Nokia. Laughter resonates from the room (they’re playing _Who Am I_ with root beer instead of shots) and he ignores it.

Wilson leans back in the chair almost to falling. He does not and sits up again.

The noise is louder now and Steve says, “Just gonna check on Sam.” He enters the kitchen with a paper stuck to his head that reads “Anna Nicole Smith” and Wilson holds in his laugh.

                “So, wanna join?” Steve sasy and holds out his hand.

Wilson finds himself sitting next to Rhodes with Peter next to the lieutenant. His person was chosen by Peter, who is grinning with a missing tooth.

The rounds go as such: Barton (Greggor Mendel), Tony (Evil Kenevil), Peter (Amelia Earhart), Rhodes (Buster Keaton), Wilson, then Steve, and finally Banner as Curious George.

Wilson, during the fifth round figures out he got “Eeyore” when he asks “Did Peter choose this one?” and Tony has a shit eating grin on his smug face.

Barton never discovers his until Banner yells “Mendel, father of genetics!”

Poor Steve is lost on the reference of Ann Nicole Smith until he asks, “Is she married to an older gentleman?”

It takes him two guesses because he thinks of Hue Heffner first then John Wayne.

Tony only gives Barton a death glare after learning of his person.

Peter jumps after getting it right and dances, like Tony.

                “I take back what I said,” Rhodes whispers in Tony’s ear. “He is your kid.”

Banner also gets lost until he finds out it was Peter’s choice.

He goes through the boy’s entire book collection until he gets to George.

* * *

 

The sky darkens and Peter loses his steam. Steve carries him to bed and lies the small body down.

Rhodes and Sam are spending the night and Steve cannot wait for something else like this.

However, he fears what will happen in the morning. Sam had mentioned that Peter should be in school on a Wednesday. Tony said Rhodes was giving him a few worried glances.

Steve sighs and gets Peter moving after a few silent moments.

                “Time to get ready for bed, sport,” he whispers.

Peter does so without protest. He climbs in with his 80’s robot pajamas. Steve tucks him in, but Peter is out.

                “Long day for him,” Tony says from the doorway.

He steps in, careful to avoid the skateboard. He’s been teaching Peter the basics and it helps that the parks are empty. Steve stands to kiss his husband and then hold him.

                “We should make a play date with that Osborn kid,” Steve says. “Peter’s missing him and I know he wants someone besides Pooh-JARVIS to play with, Tony.”

Tony exhales. “I am aware,” he says. They leave Peter to his sleep and start their night ablutions.

As Steve turns off the bedside lamp, Tony grabs his bicep.

                “I hate bullies too, Steve. I can’t stand it if they go after Peter. He’s not ready….we need him to talk first. Not like this. Just a few years of homeschool. Dear God, he’s ahead of his age group. We’ll find a place when he’s ten, okay,” Tony says all this in a flurry.

Steve scoots closer to him and takes his husband in his arms.

                “A few years and play dates with Harry. And I think we should let him train with Nat, just basics. Also, no one besides the Avengers can babysit Peter.”

Tony huffs out a laugh. “That means Bruce is primary for all occasions because he never leaves his lab or this tower.”

                “I’m pretty sure Coulson would die if we offered him Peter duty.”

                “Duh. He practically planned your side of he wedding. Guy would go stone cold crazy if you said “wanna babysit my kid.”’

                “Hm. Nat too, when she’s available. You and Pepper doing okay.”

                “Yeah, she’s over her shock and I’m never mad,” Tony says with a grin. Steve pinches his butt.

                “Who else? Rhodes?”

                “Maybe. I know Wilson’s out.”

                “Yep. Oh, Agent 13.”

                “And that would be….”

                “Peggy’s great niece. Her name’s Sharon and she’s a real sweetheart. She works with SHIELD. The real one, not HYDRA, and I trust her. Oh, shit!”

                “Language, _mon capitaine_.”

                “I forgot Peggy!” Steve exclaims.

In the background, JARVIS wishes to roll non-existent eyes. For another error must be fixed and he is not too glad to speak to Agent Carter.


	7. Unwanted Guest (Part 1: Peter's First Words)

Harry held on in the hug as if it would be the last of Peter. The boy in turn, starting to sniffle a bit. Tony would chuckle at the best friends’ dramatics if Norman Osborn did not loom over them. It may just well be the last time the two saw each other, what with Osborn threatening to steal Harry away if they he and Steve are ever together in front of the boys.

Tony still cringes at that memory. Osborn had walked in on Steve and him sharing a nice kiss while the boys were hanging off of Banner in the living room. The man shouted that it was indecent and kept Harry locked up for three weeks, to where Peter became more withdrawn. Not like it was the first time, but still, each and every separation seemed to dimmer the glow in Peter’s eyes.

                “Call me every day; have your dads read the signs. And don’t forget, I’m gonna bring you back something from our trip to the Caymens and then something cooler from Brazil. And-and we can go to the skate park and see who wins at speeds and if you can do your new trick,” Harry continued in this monologue as Peter nodded to it.

Tony smiled, just elated to see how, despite the elder’s open bigotry, Harry loved Peter with a platonic abandonment that Tony only knew for Pepper and Rhodes. He could never remember having a best friend as a child. (Unless he dug deep and remembered those Captain America posters he worshiped, and Steve did not know of.)

The two parted, Peter waving good bye all the way to the elevator.

They strutted out of OSCORP, Peter looking up and skipping to the car where Happy had the door open.

                “I take it everything went well,” the man said as Peter gave him a fist bump.

Tony rolled his eyes, wishing Happy had not insisted on making his son “rad.”

                “Yep. Oskid’s gonna miss his little buddy and Peter’s got JARVIS on his phone for reading his signs.”

                “Sweet. You know Tony, Pepper and I still haven’t gotten your RSVP,” Happy said, making sure Peter was settled in the Benz with Pooh-JARVIS.

                “Happy, your wedding's not until June, can’t you ball up and tell my CEO that I’m going without a stupid invite.”

Happy gave Tony a look and Tony groaned.

                “Fine. I’ll send it when Steve stops by the house this week. We’ll be in Malibu till Valentine’s Day, by then, hopefully the world hasn’t burned.”

Happy closed the door, grinning from ear to ear.

* * *

 

                “Urgh! Sorry, where was I?” asked Hawkeye as another rogue came after him.

                “Asking us our plans for the holidays,” grunted Captain America when he caught his shield. “Tony and I are going to Malibu for the holidays and then some. We’re thinking it may be our last bet to get some alone time with Peter before he starts school next year.”

Captain America dodged incoming bullets as another rogue came barreling toward him. He waited until just in time and threw the man off to the side. Just then, Black Widow chimed in: “I’m proud of moy malen'kiy pauk, but don’t you and Tony think you should wait?”

Captain America sighed and side kicked his next attacker.

“You sound like Tony. I know Peter’s probably learning more with JARVIS and Bruce as his teachers, but he’s also missing out on some great memories. You should see his face when Harry starts a new school year and talks about new friends. Peter will need that; and you have no idea how difficult it was to get Tony on board. But, eventually—”

Captain America stopped and found the missing brief case filled with DNA alternating syrups. He slowly approached it, calling the other two. “Target found. Get extraction going pronto.”

 

Later, as they flew away from the once evil laboratory, Hawkeye took out his hearing aids.

The archer had gotten into a heavy explosion with sonic waves, which messed with his ears, but did not damage them beyond repair. He could hear with the aids and had taken up sign language with Peter, even though the boy still used the paper and pen ones.

                ‘What else happened?’ he signed slowly to Steve.

It took Steve a few seconds, but he caught.

                “Right,” he signed while he spoke, Natasha and Clint listening. “I had to convince Tony that Peter needs more socialization and that we gotta get him in school. Tony argued about our original plan, but I was thinking that no matter what age, if Peter doesn’t speak then the kids will tease him, but at least now, with Harry, he can have more friends and time to adjust.” Steve paused as if gathering the next words to communicate his decision. “I don’t want Peter to go. In fact, I’m content to keep JARVIS as his primary teacher. That and with Peter homeschooled, hardly any media has discovered him. And…I want to protect him. However, that’s just as bad as if we kept him in a cage. Nat, you’ve been training him in basic combat, so you know Peter’s strong, but how will he conquer that with others? People who don’t know him or just the other agents? Peter’s powers are growing, you remember how Coulson reacted to when Peter could make webs?”

Natasha nodded.

                “I can’t….the thought of people going after him because of what he can’t control…frightens me. If sending him to school with Harry next year will help in any way, then I’d argue with Tony in his Hulk-Buster in Times Square; that almost happened. So, next school year, Peter’s going. We haven’t told him yet, but hopefully our long winter holiday will help break Tony out of his reluctance.”

The rest of the trip was silence.

* * *

 

Steve was up. He had no reason to be up, but, alas, he was and he surveyed the room. All normal since he and Tony’s last visit to the Malibu house. The ocean’s waves hit the beach outside and the alarm was still active, as far as Steve could tell from the signal on his phone. He was about to cuddle with Tony when—

Steve jolted out of bed and took his shield and next Tony awoke groggily.

                “Shh,” said Steve as he approached his husband.

Tony was a bit under until it dawned on him; Steve with shield in hand brought a light of panic in Tony’s eyes.

Steve put his pointer finger to his lips. He gestured to Tony’s Iron Watch on the nightstand. Tony nodded and placed the watch on, turning into a small glove of his suit.

He emerges from bed and signs about the rest of his suit. Steve signs back that it can be gotten once Peter is secure.

The two heroes creep out of their bedroom to Peter’s down the hall.

The door’s open and a light is on; Steve readies his stance as the familiar heat of Tony’s repulsor is felt from behind.

                “-hic-my parents are gone, -hic-but Aunt May and Uncle Ben took care of me. Until Uncle Ben died-hic-Aunt May was really unhappy. I miss-hic- them, but my dads are good. I don’t ever feel scared around –hic-them or Uncle Bruce, even though he pokes me with needles,” Peter hiccups. “Sorry.”

The two stop outside the door. Steve inhales softly, hearing Peter’s full voice. Tony, he knows, shakes behind him.

                “’s fine, kid. I know a trick for hiccups,” says a voice.

A voice which makes Steve pale and Tony ready his repulsor.

                “What is it?” asks Peter.

The door opens fully, creaking to the stunned heroes.

Peter is sitting up in bed, a smile on his face, and standing on the side of the door is Bucky. Peter squeals and runs to his dads.

                “Daddy, pops, this is Bucky. He’s eccentric and his metal arm is amazing. I like him. Can he stay with us, please? He can bunk with me and you and daddy can get out for fondue more,” Peter says. The words are a bit slow coming, but not slurred. His voice does not crack, but it is still misused.

Steve pushes him into Tony’s arms.

                “Uh, well, about…him…. Arachne-kid, he’s your pops old friend and he _should_ have told us he was coming. We’re gonna let them get reacquainted while you and I go for late night burgers,” Tony finishes and starts down the hall to the garage, where his car keys are and he can leave immediately. He also has a wad of cash hidden in each car, so Steve believes his loved ones will find a hotel for the rest of the night as he takes care of their guest.

 

                “What are you doing here, Barnes?”

                “Not even a ‘hey, Buck,’” the man jokes.

Steve tenses. He calms as tires screech outside. The man of his former friend sags. He seems so old when in truth both of them have barely aged in decades.

                “I went to the museum,” says the man.

Steve does not make any movement. He glances quickly at the gloved hand, knowing it has the metal appendage which almost killed him and his friends.

                “I saw me…and you…a bunch of crazy shit. I’ve been watching you. Researching. You resurfaced in 1989, two years before the end of the Cold War. You sought out the rest of the Commandoes; most were dead, but some had lived, like that Carter girl, and had kids. Stark lived too, and you met him…his son. It’s seems like stalking at this point, but I had years of espionage to use. From what I gathered, you and Stark Junior were reluctant friends at first. You took a shine to him at some point, him the same, and between the whole kidnapping thing and the Iron Man reveal, you two shacked up. You got married not two months later, and then the perfect fairy tale life, until you realize you’re missing a kid. And I know that from Peter.”

A beat.

                “Tell me if I got anything wrong,” he says.

                “You got it right,” Steve says, teeth clenching. “Now, why are you here?”

Bucky again looks defeated. “Where else can I go? I wanted to find you. I don’t remember anything….you-you’re familiar somehow and I-I need that, God dammit, I…I’m fucking lost.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've returned. This chapter was meant as one, but I realized it would have been better as a two parter because it was getting to be over five thousand in the first draft.


	8. Unwanted Guest (Uncle Bucky Says Goodbye: Part Two)

Peter watched his dad mutter between pacing in the hotel bedroom. His dad had a worried look, which frightened Peter a bit. Dad was never really worried, unless there was a crisis, like when those men tried to take Peter and Uncle Bruce turned into the Green Man. Peter bit his lip. That experience was not as scary because the Green Man had been nice to him and his dad, whose leg was broken. The Green Man helped them and smiled at Peter. Later, Uncle Bruce had been ashamed, but Peter told him he liked the Green Man.

                “…I’ll kill him…”

Peter tuned back to his dad. Dad had an angry look on his face and stopped pacing.

                “Daddy,” Peter said. His voice hurt a bit and water did not help.

His dad looked confused for a second. He turned to Peter and his eyes widened. Peter did not know why his dad still looked at him like that.

                “Yeah, kiddo,” dad said.

                “Why are you mad at Bucky?”

His dad sighed and went to sit on the bed with him. “Because he hurt this family. Before we got you and he’s not such a nice guy.”

                “He didn’t seem mean to me,” Peter recounted. “He was sad.”

                “How long was he with you?” dad asked, his knuckles white.

                “A while. He asked about me and you and pops. He said he had a lot to catch up on and that pops could help him. He said that he wanted to be part of our life, like an uncle. He said that when it’s okay, he’ll tell me the whole truth.”

His dad listened and nodded. “Nothing else.”

                “No, I was telling him about you guys.”

                “Peter, you need to understand that not everyone who knows your pops and me is good. Especially the ones who sneak into houses in the dead of night,” his dad said firmly.

Peter twiddled his thumbs. His dad leaned in closer to him.

                “Spit it. You and your pops are terrible secrete keepers.”

                “Bucky said you wouldn’t let him near you or me without a squad-squ-squadron of SHIELD agents and your suit. Is that true?”

                “Yes.” His dad embraced Peter and held tight. “He’s not a good man, Peter. Bucky’s been through some hell, so not everything is his fault. However, he is not the same guy he was when Cap knew him. I want you to know, and I hate to do this, but there are people out there who say the right things and make you feel safe,” his dad said. His voice got a little thick. “In reality, they are only after something. Something precious and worthwhile, which, if taken, will never be restored properly. It comes back mended.” His dad stopped.

Peter felt wetness on his hair.

                “Daddy…”

                “Sshh, I’m trying to say that bad people do good things for the wrong reasons. Bucky may seem okay now, but he is not trustworthy.” His dad sniffed and laid Peter on the bed. His eyes were red. “Enough of this grown-up stuff. Go to sleep and dream of the beach.”

Peter laid there as the lights went off and his dad curled next to him. Sleep came.

* * *

 

                “I can’t put you ahead of my family. No,” Steve said. “Bucky this almost broke it last time. I can’t ask that of Tony and we have Peter now.”

Bucky (his _name, yes_ ) stared at Steve. This man whose voice acted as a balm to his erratic thoughts. Bucky’s nightmares involved snow, a train, and this man. This man who appeared to be a friend in the nightmares. Some dreams happened too; a rusty apartment. Smiles and laughter. Drawings nothing but drawings. Bucky stared at Steve. He attacked.

 

_A few hours…._

Bucky waited as Steve slowly removed the car off him. He was bruised and battered, a welcome distraction to the other feelings. Steve grunted as the Mercedes was a bit stuck. Bucky put pity on him and with his free metal arm lifted the bottom half. The destroyed vehicle came off like a Band-Aid and the two walked up the stairs for the rest of the damage.

Mostly holes and cracks in walls and broken furniture. Things the _bourgeois_ Tony could replace; Bucky clenched his fists. The metal one made a screech.

                “I don’t want this,” said Steve. He slumped down on the upturned sofa and crossed his arms. “This fighting. Buck—”

                “Don’t call me that! Don’t pretend to fucking care,” Bucky yelled.

He fell on the hard floor. Where else did he belong?

St-no, Captain America stood. He sat next to him the Winter Soldier.

He grabbed his face and made him look into those blue eyes. Bucky shook.

                “I care, dammit. You…you were all I had. For a long time, it was just the two of us. Then the war. But, it was still you and me.” Steve let go and offered his hand. “I have Tony and Peter to think about. It’s not just me Bucky. I will help you, but I can’t force Tony to accept you. That comes later. Right now, his happiness is first. You need to leave before I call Tony.”

Steve found a pen and paper lying around the floor. He wrote a number and address.

                “I’ll call him beforehand, but he can give you a place to stay and some others who can help.”

Bucky read the name _Sam Wilson._

* * *

 

                “He’s gone,” Tony said.

Steve sighed. “Yes. I gave him some money for travel and he’s on the way to D.C.”

Tony gripped the phone happy Peter was in the suite talking to his friend.

                “That’s it. He comes and disrupts our lives and you let him off with a slap on the wrist. He enters my son’s room, about to do God knows what—”

                “Tony,” Steve says. “You know Peter was safe. He’s been a lot of things, but not a child killer.”

                “I don’t care,” Tony growled. “He was there, Steve. Alone with my son. No matter,” Tony stopped, taking a breath. “No matter the reason Bucky’s still a murderer and a danger.”

                “That’s why I sent him off. Tony, please, listen. Bucky won’t have any contact outside of me and Sam. Maybe Nat. He won’t be allowed near Peter or you. I promise to keep him out of New York.”

Tony’s hand loosened. He waited.

                “I will help him. If for nothing then that he was my friend once and that he’s been stripped of everything. Tony,” Steve said, exhausted. “I can’t abandon him.”

Tony closed his eyes.

                “Tony? Honey?”

                “Just don’t let him get to you. Don’t show him that he gets to you,” Tony said. He rubbed his face. “Peter’s going to want to meet him again and I can’t stop that.” Tony stopped and looked at the door that separated him from Peter. “I can stop something else from getting to Peter, Cap.” Tony said.

                “Don’t bring this up, Tony.” Rustling came from Steve’s side and Tony clenched his jaw.

                “Might as well talk it out now because it won’t happen again.”

                “Peter should start school sooner than ten. I know you wanted to keep him out of the public eye and we can still do so, but Peter needs to be around kids. It’s good for him,” Steve said.

                “Yeah, like it was good for me surrounded by idiots from grades 0 to 12 who just wanted a piece of the Stark name. And let’s remember the wonderful years of your school life bullied when Barnes wasn’t there,” Tony sneered.

                “He’ll have Harry. He’ll make new friends at the camp this summer. And other kids will accept him. Peter’s a hard kid not to love,” Steve said.

                “Are you on some high from a _Happy Days_ marathon? Steve, you know Peter’s getting singled out for being new kid _and_ smart. The kids won’t like that Harry, the popular offspring of Osborn, has a shy friend. They’ll try to break him, Steve.”

Steve groaned. “Don’t think me stupid. I’ve thought of this already and gone through every scenario. It’s going to be a struggle and Peter will have bad days—”

                “Then why risk it!” Tony yelled. He glanced at the door. Peter had not emerged.

                “We can’t lock Peter away. He’s not some treasure we hoard from the world because we’re afraid he’ll be taken.”

They were silent and then Steve did that thing Tony loved. He made a noise, a huff of air, and Tony knew he was smiling. It made Tony smile a little.

                “Our boy can talk Tony,” he said, breathless. “Peter can speak. It’s beautiful.”

The other thing Tony loved was that Steve could say something so simple and powerful to make him cry again and feel more human.

                “Yeah, it’s beautiful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention that this is a time lapse in this. So, it is about two years later and Peter is eight. Banner has a better relationship with him because of the attempted kidnapping and everything else I hope is clear. Also, I don't do action well and so it is skipped.


	9. Summer Friends (Gwen Stacy is New)

Peter sat alone in the atrium as the other kids gathered in groups for lunch. He did not mind. This being his second science camp the sting did not hurt so much of being outted. Peter took out his Captain America tin box with his food. Mr. Coulson had given it to him for Christmas.

He munched on the saurkraut and egg sandwich until suddenly a girl came up to him. She was Gwen, a new kid this summer.  
Peter smiled at her.

"What's that?" she asked.

"A sandwich my Uncle Clint makes me. He says it's good for the colon," Peter snickered.

Gwen giggled. "My dad can only make PB&J and maybe ham, but he puts too much mustard on it," she said with a scrunched face. "Mom's been busy at work and dad's the only one in the mornings. My brothers and me are not allowed to take stuff out of the fridge anymore."

"How come?" Peter asked, scooting over for the girl to sit down.

"Well, we may have taken all the cookies and icecream once." She smiled wickedly, like Daddy sometimes. "Or three times."

Peter choked on his sandwich a bit. He tried holding a laugh. He took out some chips and celery sticks. Gwen had her poor sandwich. It dripped jelly and Peter could not smell much peanut butter. He passed her some of his celery and chips.

"Thanks, but I'm good. I mean I got a banana and graham crackers. My dad always gets me some McDonald's after camp."

"That's not healthy," Peter said, but covered his mouth. His voice got better with time and practice, however he had tended to blurt out the things on his mind. Daddy said he was honest. Pops said he had to be diplomatic in his speech. Daddy smiled and told him he'd help him.

"I know. But my dad doesn't have much time with the new position at the precinct."

"He's a police officer!" Peter said excited.

"Yep, just turned sergeant with his break on a case."

Gwen went on to tell Peter of how her dad, Sergeant Stacy, had single handedly found a ringleader for bad stuff. How his trail had started years before with the introduction of Wakanda into the UN and the immigrants coming in; how this man had found them and was mean. How the man forced them to tell him about a precious metal.

"I can't say the name right. Anyway, dad says that this man had taken some of the immigrants back to their home. He had them dig up the metal from under the king's mine. So, dad found a pattern in the victims. He had someone be bait, a new officer who had a Wakandan girlfriend, and caught some of the kidnappers. The rest is the law process and that's really boring. I think the ringleader was caught, but I don't really know. Dad said the feds took over. He thinks they're working for SHIELD," she finished. Her face took on a dark grimace at the mention of SHIELD.

Before Peter could ask, the junior counselor, Skip, called for everyone to line and return to their groups. They separated, Peter in Awesome Ions and Gwen in Powerful Polymers. The day went on as the kids worked on small experiments with some disappointing results.  
  


* * *

 

Waiting outside the Hall of Science for Happy to arrive, Peter saw Gwen get in a car with a light on it. He waved goodbye to her as they drove pass. Peter stood with his backpack and lunch watching the sky and the clouds form swirls. 

A honk alerted Peter to Happy--It was not his daddy's car. The door opened to reveal Mr. Coulson and another man in all black with the SHIELD logo. 

"Hello Peter, care for a ride home? Mr. Hogan won't be here for another ten minutes with the construction between the main road and here," he said. 

Peter shuffled on his feet. The smile Mr. Coulson gave Peter was the one his dad told him to be wary of; it was tight and his brow was furrowed. Peter gripped his lunch tin. Mr. Coulson stepped out of the car and kneeled down to Peter's height.

"We just wanna talk, Peter. We'll take you straight home to your dads and not bother you again today, okay?"

Peter stepped back. He had not seen Coulson since Easter and the man had the same look then. He and pops had gotten into a loud argument that Peter did not catch. 

"Please," Mr. Coulson pleaded.

Peter got into the car and watched as the Hall went by. 

"So, I heard from your father that Christmas was eventful," Mr. Coulson said.

"Yes," answered Peter.

"Meet anyone?" he asked.

Peter held his lunch tin close. Mr. Coulson sighed and turned to look at Peter. The man in black turned onto the bridge.  
"I am told someone unexpected came for a visit. An old friend of your father's from his army days. Now, Peter, this man is someone SHIELD has been looking for," Mr. Coulson said. He maneuvered to be facing Peter. "He's a dangerous person. An enemy of the highest caliber."

Peter curled in on himself. 

"He's done some bad things, Peter and hurt a lot of people." Mr. Coulson paused. "He's also really confused."  
Mr.Coulson was staring at him. Peter felt it. It was not like his spidey sense, which tingled often before danger. No, this was something Peter did not understand. 

However, he did not explore it much because the car screeched to a stop as a loud thump hit the hood. Peter looked up to see Uncle Clint posed with his arrows at the driver. Next the door was opened by his Aunt Natasha.

"Peter, moy malen'kiy pauk, please come with me. Mr. Coulson and Barton have some important things to discuss."  
Peter unhooked his seatbelt, gave a swift wave to Mr. Coulson and follwed his aunt. The car with Happy was a few blocks down. They entered and Aunt Natasha asked if he wanted a snack.

"I wanna go home," he said, trembling.  
They did and he went straight to his room and closed the door as his dads told him to do not too long ago.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The formatting is off to me because I am posting this from my Kindle and I have yet to figure out how to make it look right. Also, next few chapters are going to be small fluffy ones because this slight angst is getting to me and to fill some plot points.


	10. The Wedding Crasher and his Companion

Peter gazed at the people running around the suite. Happy was sweating. He had his tux unbuttoned and cummerbund out. Peter sat in the lounge chair across from the groom as his daddy tried to calm the sweaty man.

                “I know it’s a big day and all, but Hap, you can’t be a run-away groom. Trust me, that movie will never be made,” his dad went on in that manner.

Peter was bored just sitting. Happy nodded to all being said, but even pops could tell nothing went through. Peter looked to Mr. Sam. Mr. Sam was talking to someone on the phone in hushed tones.

Peter leaned away from his dads and heard snippets of the conversation.

                “no the toaster oven was made in China…..It’s not a freakin’ spy…..damn it, just read the instructions…..No, no, no…..come one man I’m at a wedding……”

Rhodey opened the door and Mr. Sam hung up.

                “How’s he doing?”

                “Not good and not worse, Rhodesby,” said daddy.

Peter swung his legs and watched as the groom’s men huddled close to Happy.

The door stood open. Peter wrote a letter saying that he would be back and left the room.

 

Even though he can talk, Peter still forgot to speak on most occasions. He still had his notepad and various pencils. Sometimes, Peter went a week without a word. His dads had yet to get used to his voice. JARVIS too seem daunted by him asking for something out loud. Peter wondered if he would become mute again.

He shook. Those thoughts were for when he was home and daddy and pops could tell him that they loved him.

Peter continued down the hall way to another suite. The people bustling about took little notice of the young boy and his missing guardian. Peter looked around the Plaza and sighed in awe. It really was a palace in New York as his pops had told him.

Peter found a small sitting area and took a chair. He also carried some markers and crayons, though he did not like art as much as his pops. Peter went through his notepad to start a blank page. He observed the colors and tried to match them. The creamy walls became yellow with streaks of blue for shadows and the tile floor became triangular instead of square with black dots.

Lost in his drawings, the shadow watching over Peter did not faze him; for Peter’s spidey-sense (as daddy trademarked it) did not ring out. He did notice something there, but it gave no move as to get near him. Peter did not ponder long on this because the next thing he saw was Mr. Sam jogging to him.

                “Damn, kid! You’re like finding a hostile in a Doombot attack,” he exclaims.

 

Peter’s things are grabbed and he is holding out his hand. Mr. Sam takes it and grumbles all the way back, running into Rhodey and his pops.

There is no time for scolding as the hour comes and they are to go to their places for the ceremony. Peter is thrusted behind a little girl with pigtails and a yellow dress. Behind, Miss Potts holds out her arm for pops as he is to give her away.

The walk with all those faces unease Peter, but he stays resolute in following the girl throwing flowers and getting up to the dais where his daddy, Rhodey, and others stand. Peter tries to go to his dad, but one of Happy’s friend catches him by the collar. He gently guides Peter to stand beside the other men.

The words from the preacher fade in Peter’s mind as he looks at the faces gathered. The Terrace Room is huge, but Peter still spots it-or him. A man in shadows at the back. He wears a tuxedo and a white scarf. His expression is blank and his eyes are looking at Thor, who sits with the other Avengers and Mr. Coulson.

Peter has little time before he is told to bring the rings. He searches again, but the man in shadows is gone.

* * *

 

Loki awaits for the end of the festivities. His brother, the oaf, saunters around with Lady Jane on his arm. Loki sniffs in his disguise. To the eye, he is another business woman, showing her support for the CEO getting married. To another eye, he is an old board member not sure where he is. Both guise keep him in the dark of the Avengers and onlookers. Loki walks toward his target. The young Peter stands on the chair as Stark points out who they know and who is just here for booze.

Loki focuses his magic into a young secretary Stark and the Good Captain both know.

                “—and Tom’s here for that pretty blonde. He likes her, but she’s one of those no strings type—”

                “Language!”

                “Oh, honey. Our arachno-kid won’t understand till he’s dealing with acne.”

                “Acne?”

                “One of the joys of puberty,” Stark laughs.

Loki coughs and the three look to him.

                “Jules, thought you had other plans,” says Stark.

                “Not for the boss’s reception,” Loki (Jules) retorts.

                “And better booze than the Christmas party,” Stark says, grinning.

Loki (Jules) smiles sweetly. “I’m actually here because Ms,er, Mrs. Potts asks me to bring some things we need to sign off on.”

Loki places the fake files on the table, aware of Stark’s aversion to being handed things. The boy looks at him and Loki wonders what secret powers this child holds. No magic is present in the child, for he would feel it, but there is a power there. Loki glances back as Stark begins to sign the endless papers. This spell is simple enough, a distraction for the both of them. The Captain watches entranced also by the pen and papers.

It is child’s play as Loki in Jules kind voice asks Peter if he wants cake. The child frowns; nonetheless he follows Loki until they are out of that garish room and in a yellow Corvette. Learning to drive these contraptions was pure boredom, but Loki thanks his fortune he took the time.

The boy looks at him and he is aware that his visage has returned to its normal form.

Loki has no care as he backs out and fires the engine. He does not find the silence odd, for he has observed the boy from afar these years.

                “You were the shadow,” he says.

Loki only hums as he passes the bridge out the island city. His hideout is further away and it helps that the boy is mostly quiet. Once out of the immediate New York sky, Loki talks.

                “I suppose you are wondering what will happen. Rest assured, child, I do not wish to harm you. Nor do I plan on letting you go. This is not a kidnapping, however crass that word is. You will become my new tool to victory. I will strengthen your power and gain control of his miserable planet.” He stops and looks at the boy. There is no fear and a curious gaze. Loki smiles for an instant. “One day, I may call you brother.”

They continue the journey, Loki unaware of the tiny com on Peter. Unaware of JARVIS sending distress signals to the still enchanted Iron Man and Captain America.

All which matters is the road ahead and Loki’s deep secreted relief at no longer being alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi,   
> Yes it has been a while. And not, this is not fluffy like I intended. I am sorry. My aunt has been sick and I've been taking care of her. So most of my stories are on the back burner. I will attempt more frequent updates of my long stories, but also quite a few one-shots.


	11. Loki's True Words

The drive is long and slow. Loki wishes for his Sleipnir now,  his equestrian-child always the fastest. He lets those maudlin thoughts go as he glances at the child. Peter has nodded off in the drive and Loki thanks the Norns he is such an obedient boy. Loki almost regrets ripping his suit jacket off when he saw the small device, although he is glad for the destruction. He has gone further than intended and it should be good to put such distance between him and his brother.

His hideout for now is not elaborate or original. It is a small cabin in Virginia with some luxuries and amenities. Loki gets out and opens the door. Peter stirs in his seat and opens his eyes.

                “Come out,” Loki orders.

Peter follows him, yawning on the way to the cabin. Loki opens it and the boy heads for the small lounge chair. He climbs up and falls fast asleep. Loki sniffs.

                “Child, wake up. The clothes you wear are soiled and I believe even mortals do not smell heavy of sweat all the time,” Loki says. He jostles the lounge chair. Peter shoots out alert and stares at Loki.

                “Bathe, and then eat. After I will allow a short rest for you, but be reminded we are on a short schedule until I can have a new domain.”

Peter rubs his eyes and nods at what he says. He looks around the small cabin and sees the open bathing chamber door. He walks to it, halts, and looks at Loki.

                “What?”

                “I don’t have any clothes,” he says.

Loki will admit that he has been waiting for the fear, even ambivalence, but Peter has been calm, almost as if he is with someone he trusts.

                “Do not think me unprepared,” He says. Loki goes to the bureau and pulls out packages of clothes, all Peter’s size. “I will hang them on the door knob this once. I am not a servant and I am aware you’re Captain father has taught you to launder. I expect you to feed, clean, and entertain yourself.”

                “Daddy said I’m not allowed to use the oven without him or pops,” Peter responds. No arrogance or anger.

                “Yes, but I believe all children learn independence too late, so you will do it alone.”

Peter shrugs. He closes the door and Loki leaves the clothes as promised.

He sits on the one bed in the cabin and sees the steam coming from the bathing chamber. Loki does not know his own feelings of what is happening. He lies down and watches a sparrow chase another one out his window. He hums enjoying the sound of another in his presence.

* * *

 

**_At the wedding reception, two days earlier._ **

Pepper makes her rounds at the guest tables again. Happy is beside her and she knows it a cliché, but she feels stronger with him there. Pepper smiles at the passing guests who leave early and at one point she sees her assistant Jules. It is odd because she is out with mono. The thought escapes Pepper as her grandmother comes up to hug her and give her a small speech of how marriage works. She smiles and nods in the appropriate places. Happy saves them when he says to check on Tony.

They go, Pepper a bit giddy. She has never been able to get out of her old grandmother’s marriage speech since she was nine. The giddiness fades upon seeing the deep concentration Tony and Steve have on blank pages. Tony keeps signing his name and skipping to another page.

                “Tony,” Happy said. He nudges the man’s shoulder. No reaction is forthcoming. Pepper feels dread pool in her stomach.

                “Get Thor,” Pepper says.

Happy rushes onto the dance floor where Thor and Jane do a dangerous rendition of the Chicken Dance.

Pepper attempts to coax Steve, but he is seemingly transfixed by what Tony is doing. She finally notices that the papers have begun to pile up on the floor.

                “Oh God,” she says. Pepper grabs at the papers and throws them on the floor and takes the pen out of Tony’s hand. It is to no avail as he and Steve follow the paper. Tony begins signing his name on the scattered papers.

                “Ho! What trickery lies here,” Thor booms.

                “I don’t know,” Pepper says, panicked.

Thor examines the two. He must see something because his face goes pale.

                “My brother,” he says. Jane leans down with him and puts her hand on his shoulder. “Loki is alive and he has enchanted my teammates. Do not fret, Lady Pepper, it will fade after a time.”

                “But where’s Peter?” Happy asks.

Thor is about to say something and Pepper’s hands tremble, in this, she has not taken Peter’s absence.

                “Oh, God, oh, God. No, no, no,” she repeats. Happy comes to hug her and Pepper’s tear are absorbed into his Giorgio Armani suit. A present from Tony.

 

They stand outside Bleecker Street in front of a dilapidated building. Pepper, changed into her vacation clothes, fills a chill in the mid-June air. Thor walks up the steps, Sam and Rhodey carrying the two Avenger leaders. Thor said to take them away from the paper would stop them, but also they would become comatose.

Jane stands next to Pepper.

                “You doing okay?” she asks.

                “No,” says Pepper.

                “Peter’s a smart kid. Darcy says he’ll be like his daddy when he gets older and rule the world,” Jane says. That gets a tiny smile out of Pepper, but she still has a terrible sense of dread.

The house opens and reveals itself to be a mansion. The men go off with a Dr. Strange. Pepper stays back; it has been a long day. Happy stays back with her as Jane follows them. A man appears and offers the two some oolong tea.

                “We’ll find him,” Happy says. “Whatever that Loki guy’s done, he’ll know soon enough not to shit with the Avengers’ kid.”

Pepper snorts a laugh. “He’s not the “Avengers” kid.” She uses air quotes. “Peter is Tony and Steve’s kid.”

Happy cocks his eyebrow and has grin on his face. He had that same look when Pepper said they should be professional.

                “Pep, look at all the people who care for him.  Even Sam, who hates kids, likes Peter. He’s just a little nervous. That Natalie girl loves him and the Barton guy too. Dr. Banner’s smiles are less strained since Peter’s joined this group, and now don’t tell me Peter hasn’t wormed his way into our hearts. Hell, Coulson loves him, not just because he’s Captain America’s son.”

Pepper stares at Happy. This ordinary, average, man whose stuck with Tony through hell, whose done everything in his power to make Pepper welcome, whose only purpose it seems is to help others, despite the cost of his happiness. This man she has married.   

                “You’re right,” she says. “We’ll give Loki hell to pay.”

* * *

 

The second day of having the Stark child is uneventful as the day before. Peter has remained compliant and shown Loki his powers. They are arachnid in nature and a bit of that serum the Good Captain had taken. Nothing else is to be done until Loki can find a practical training place. This cabin is nice to hide, but he has neighbors none too far off.

Loki sighs of boredom on the bed. He put Peter on the lounge chair with a blanket and pillow. Loki returns to his window gazing. A chipmunk passes by with another chasing it. Loki rolls his eyes. Midgardian wildlife has no mischief in it. He looks to Peter, who sits cross legged on the floor, folding the newspaper into hats. Loki has some books, but not for mortals’ eyes. Peter has read the articles that have gathered on Loki’s property. He has read through a fair amount. When he finishes, he makes the newspapers into hats, or boats, or he cuts them with the scissors Loki has for the kitchen.

That has been the most of the cabin’s activities. And the fire Peter started when he was making pancakes. Peter had drowned the pan in oil and it flipped when Peter tried to flip the pancake. Loki waved his hands the fire extinguished, although he did watch as Peter cooked.

Loki rolled to face Peter as he made paper people.

                “Child, why do you not fear me?”

Peter looks up abruptly. He blinks a few times and coughed.

                “Um….I guess because…you’re not….” He stutters through his speech, twiddling his thumbs, as if ashamed.

                “I am not what,” Loki says.

                “Scary,” Peter squeaks.

Loki scowls. “I am not scary. Please, boy, elaborate.”

Peter shrugs and Loki believes that his manners are no match for that of the High Court of Asgard.

                “I mean you don’t yell at me. You let me eat and play. You don’t try to be mean. You’re bossy, but grown-ups are bossy, like Aunt Pepper. And you’ve been really nice to me.”

Loki must be under a delusion. He is many adjectives; “nice” is the furthest and “damn” begins each one.

                “Nice,” he says lowly.

                “Yeah,” Peter says. “My daddy said you were the first supervillain he fought and that you weren’t all that bad. Mostly show-offy.”

Loki snorts. “Your daddy is one to talk. My first encounter with him, he hacked the machines to play a Norn-awful song.”

                “Hm-hhm. Pops said that was one of the scariest moments of his life.”

                “Tell me,” Loki says.

                “Pops didn’t know daddy was coming and when he saw what you did, he was scared for daddy.”

                “I see. And yet, you do not fear me,” Loki says, arching a brow.

                “You haven’t done anything to me,” Peter says.

                “That is too simple of a notion, child. I have taken you from your home and your fathers will not find you. I plan to make you one of my soldiers and to seek others similar to you.”

Peter has a confused look on his face.

                “There are others who’ve tried to replicate the serum which made your Captain father who he is. Each trial with varying results. My aim is to find the ones who your fathers rescued seven years ago. They and you will be my new army and comrades.” Loki smirks at his plan. He has several candidates lined up, including two Canadians. However, the one in the red suit he may leave behind. Too insane for his taste.

Peter gets up from his seat on the floor. He goes to Loki. For the briefest moment, Loki is cautious. He has nothing to be wary of; he can take this boy and kill him if he must. Loki does not.

                “Here,” Peter says.

Loki takes the hat from the small hands.

                “Have you not heard a single word of mine?”

                “Yes,” Peter says. He shrugs. “My daddy, when he found about my spider powers, said to trust my spidey-sense. My pops said that it is the action of a man that defines him, past and present, not what he looks like or who he is.”

_Simple child,_ Loki thinks viciously. He crumples the hat and throws on the floor. Peter eyes water at that.

                “Do you believe me to be “scary” now?” Loki all but yells.

                “No,” Peter says. He rubs his arms. “I think you’re lonely and sad.”

Loki should scream, should throw him across the room, should burn this cabin and the boy in it, should gut him and lay him on his fathers’ tower.

                “I am not sad,” he screeches.

                “I’m sorry,” Peter says.

                “I am a son of Odin. A god, you dull child. I am the one who brought this world to its knees and the Mightiest Heroes almost lost their lives because of ME!”

Loki stops and Peter stares. He is sniffling and trying to hide. Loki grabs him by his shoulders.

                “Do you understand that I am no trifle weakling to be cast aside, Od—”

Loki swallows hard. He can still hear his ersatz father’s name on his tongue. He looks at Peter now; the child has no fear, but great despair. Loki shakes him slightly, not hard, but still there is only that burning sadness. Loki laughs dryly and brings Peter onto the bed. He sits between his legs and holds the boy.

                “I apologize.” Loki pats the sniffling boy’s head. “I like to think myself above base emotions, but…I suppose even my silver tongue is rusted.” Peter buries his face in Loki’s chest. Loki allows it. “Honesty does not come easy for me, Peter.” Peter stiffens. “For this moment and few others, I will speak truth. I am jealous of you. All the love and praise you receive as an adopted son, whereas I was always second to my brother. Nothing in this universe prepared me for the truth of my heritage. However, the universe cannot take the truth away. I am the secreted adoptive son of the might Allfather, cast aside because my use was impossible. So, here we are. The cherished son of the Avengers and I the unfortunate son and brother of Asgard and Jotunheim.”

Loki feels Peter’s arms wrap around what he can. He tightens his hold on the boy.

                “Thor talks about you a lot too. He misses you.”

* * *

 

They find the cabin.

Tony hacked in all the cameras from New York to New Jersey where the distress signal ended. JARVIS calculated all the possible directions Loki could have taken. They were lucky to have a hotel employee remember the corvette with the odd man and the boy. Tony and Bruce spent over thirty hours searching through security footage at gas stations and Steve went out with Sam and Thor to ask highway troopers.

In the end, it was Natasha with Fury who tracked suspicious purchases of one Tomi Hiddleson that a gruff old ally warned him about. Tony found the name and they sent Barton and Natasha to scout every place in New York, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey. Steve and Sam took Maryland and Washington D.C. because each only had one location.

The last is a rental cabin in Chimdale Mountains.

The Hulk bursts in, followed by Thor and Captain America.

                “Peter! Puny God has Peter!” Hulk screams.

The scene falls to Peter and Loki on the floor, shocked. Peter recovers first and runs to Hulk. He jumps into the giant’s arms and says everything is okay. Next is Steve who removes his cowl and almost wails at finding Peter unscathed.

                “Spider-monkey,” he whispers.

                “Don’t cry, pops.”

Steve takes him and goes out to the others in the Quinjet. Tony embraces them both and kisses Peter’s head.

Back in the cabin, Loki remains on the floor. Thor comes to him first and holds out manacles that only the dwarves can make.

                “Come, brother,” he says.

Loki does not fight. He stands and lets the manacles shackle his wrists. The Hulk roars at him, but he does nothing. Thor leads him out. The affair is quiet. Loki glances at Peter, embraced in his fathers’ arms. He thinks about what Peter told him and closes his eyes; it cannot be true.

                “Brother, you have much to answer for,” Thor says. “Please, hold your liesmith nature and let the punishment come. I will not see you hurt more than necessary.”

Loki looks to Thor. There is no hate in his brother’s gaze, only worry. It does not look good on the Might Odinson.

                “I will try,” he says. It is not a lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is the longest chapter I have written for this work. I thought of making it into two, but Loki will be in the next chapter, so I decided not to give him three chapters. And yes, Loki is a bit OOC. Also I had some trouble making Happy's character, which is why Pepper's pov is used for the wedding. If anyone is confused about time, well, Peter was gone for about two days or so, and the night of the wedding reception is a flashback. This chapter is a bit non-linear.


	12. The Talk

                “Tony,” says Steve.

                “No,” he growls. “Peter’s been kidnapped Steve! And you still want to send him away—”

                “His school’s a few streets from ours—”

                “—to some fucking public run-down building. He’ll be bullied—”

                “—and Coulson will look after him—”

                “—and use his powers to when our magnanimous _Coulson_ takes him to Fury—”

                “Fury knows the consequences!” Steve slams the work table. Indents of his fist are left and the tools have scattered to the floor.

Tony’s glad it’s not the $10,000 adaptable screen table with internet. Because they moved into his father’s old mansion on Fifth Avenue. No, the table is regular stainless steel. The same kind his old man used in the workshop. Odd that Tony kept it and not sell the table like everything else in the house that was not nailed down or on the wall.

                “Tony,” Steve says again. He sounds defeated. Tony hates that he can do worse damage to Captain America than any terrorist scum. “You know I will never, in my power, let anything happen to Peter. We can’t….you can’t lock him up and hope he’ll thank you.”

                “It’s not just me, Steve.” Tony says. He wants to be scathing, however he too is defeated. The August heat really gets to him, especially in an old mansion with no central air. Tony picks up the remote for the fan. He raises the speed in prayer it will cool down this boiling point. “You agreed to everything. You wanted to keep Peter at the tower. You and I kept him a secret. And now, now the fucking world knows.”

                “Just us,” Steve says.

                “You are dumb; eventually, someone at HYDRA or AIM or whatever acronym will figure out we have a kid. And if, if, we let Peter go to school that’s easier for them to take him.”

                “Loki stole him with us and his brother there, Tony.”

                “He’s a fucking god. Not a hell-bent organization with loopholes.”

                “Yeah, but Peter said he was never scared—”

                “He’s a kid!”

                “With powers. Some which are still coming; did you see how much pressure he handled when the weights fell. And his healing factor’s up to par with mine.”

                “Where are you going with this?”

                “All I’m saying is that Peter can handle his own, with Nat as his teacher, and that JARVIS had him if Loki did not notice the device. All I’m saying is that Peter was not scared and his spidey-sense did not go off.”

                “you think….”

                “Peter knows better, probably has more common sense than us, and each time there’s been someone uninvited he’s the first to tell us if they are dangerous.”

                “Steve,” Tony sobs. “I-I…I have nightmares. Every day. I’m awake and I see Peter being taken. Loki, Fury, AIM, someone else. Just a pervert who likes little boys. I see them and I can’t stop them.”

Steve walks around the table and embraces his husband.

                “I see them too. I see them and I want to rip the world apart. I saw them when you became Iron Man.”

                “I heard them when Howard talked to you.”

                “Yeah,” Steve says. He sniffs and holds Tony tighter. “We can’t let them beat us. You can’t let them hurt you. They can’t hurt you anymore. Peter’s okay. He’ll be okay.”

Tony cries into Steves shoulder and the soldier rocks him through the body tremors. Later, he helps him into a chair. Steve hands Tony a bottle of water for his parched throat.

                “When does school start?”

                “September 5th.”

                “Hm. We have a few weeks then before….oh, god, he’s growing.”

                “Gwen, his new friend, goes there.”

                “Fucking Osborn. They barely gave Peter the time of day before kicking him out.”

                “We were lucky at all to get Peter in school this year.”

                “Bullshit. Peter’ll be top of the class by the third day.”

                “Of course, but remember, we won’t bump him up a grade until he’s ready. Got it?”

Tony pouted, his mustache wrinkling around pink lips. “Maybe just until middle school. Then really, we have to make sure he doesn’t lose valuable brain cells.”

Steve grins. “That works.”

* * *

 

                “Nat, where’s Peter?”

                “….”

                “Natasha, honey, tread lightly  on what comes out next. Where is our son?”

Natasha did not flinch, but she did square her shoulders and looked both men in the eye.

                “Sam took him to DC. Peter asked to talk to Bucky.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back. Yes it has been a month, but don't fret. I will not abandon this story. In other news, I have a tumblr now: clevermoondragon is the name and I am taking story requests. Also, this is my shortest chapter after my longest one. More shit will hit the fan soon and I love cliffhangers.


	13. Peter talks to Uncle Bucky (who has a secret)

                “Hang on, kid,” Sam said. He flew up, Peter strapped to his chest, and headed south to D.C. He and Natasha could feel the tension between Steve and Tony. They were going to have “the talk” again, which, if Sam was being honest, was good. Peter should be in school with other kids, not cooped up with a bunch of adults. But….what happened in June had the effect of psyching Tony way out. The man barely slept and the sudden move to the old mansion had really messed up the team’s dynamics. Poor Banner was left alone at the tower since Barton and Natasha decided to move in with the family. Sam got that they were trying to keep the two leaders from locking up the place, but Banner didn’t really get out much. Hell, Sam hardly knew the man. Colonel Rhodes was the same. So, that left Barton to visit the doctor. Natasha stayed at the mansion when she was in town, but like him, she had places to be.

Sam peaked down at the small helmet head tucked in his chest. He knew Tony was going to kill him (and Bucky, maybe Steve), but the kid needed to talk to someone. Sam was not that someone. He flew faster, hoping Rhodes kept his end of the bargain to keep the skies scarce.

* * *

 

Bucky leaned closer to watch Peter draw. The picture was nice and all, but he obviously did not inherit his dad’s talent for art. Peter had the eye though and that made a difference.

When Sam had arrived with the small boy Bucky almost sent him back. However, seeing Peter’s worried face (such old eyes) he knew he had to help. Drawing used to ease Steve into spilling his guts…unlike the others Bucky in—

Bucky clenched his fists the metallic whirring of wires the only sound beside traffic.

He looked again at Peter’s drawing. They were doing a still-life of plastic flowers one of the volunteers at the VA gave out. She had said bright things were essential to have and decoration eased the transition. Bucky huffed; the few items in his rundown apartment did not pass for decoration. They were necessities; from his table Sam gave him to his pile of history books. The one item which was a luxury was the motorcycle Steve gave all those months ago. And, the scrapbook of newspaper clippings about Steve and his husband. Bucky felt his eye twitch. He squashed the jealously for Peter’s sake.

                “Done,” said Peter. He held up a portrait of Bucky.

Bucky’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. He was not in the game today; he did not notice that Peter had finished the still-life and started another paper.

                “It’s good,” he said. He did not lie. The face was right, if importunate to his eyes and nose. It showed his long hair flowing and falling into his face and the stubble on his chin. The eyes were awkward, but the right shade of Bucky’s brown shade. And the expression…did he look so melancholy.

                “I wanted to draw you smiling,” Peter said. “But, I never saw you smile before and pops says you had the easiest smile.”

                “I used too,” Bucky said. “I used to have a lot of things.”

                “What happened?”

Bucky closed his eyes. “Stuff you won’t understand.”

                “Was it HYDRA?”

                “wha…”

                “I hear my dads talking about them, Aunt Nat too. They sound bad. And I think they did a lot of bad stuff. So, if you know my pops and something bad happened to you, it means HYDRA did something. Or the new villains, AIM. They attacked us back in spring, but it wasn’t so bad. Daddy found them quick and he with Rhodey saved the day. And if it wasn’t HYDRA than you gotta tell my dads so they can find them and save the day. They said they’ve been saving people who have evil stuff done to them, like experiments, and rescue them from HYDRA and others—”

                “Okay, I get it. The answer is yes….HYDRA did this to me. Made me crazy and forget my friends. Made me….hurt people.”

                “Nothing that can’t be atuned,” Peter said.

He reached out for Bucky’s metal arm. He jerked and took the small limb into his flesh hand.

                “You mean atoned.”

Peter nodded.

                “Well, kid, that’s not true. You see, I’ve done some terrible things to good people. You shouldn’t even be here.”

                “But, you said they made you. Sam said they washed your brain and everything. You didn’t mean to do any of that bad stuff.” Peter looked at him, pleading in his eyes.

Bucky sighed and rubbed the hand in his flesh one.

                “No, but noting changes that I _did_ those things. I _hurt_ people and they deserve to hate me. I _destroyed_ so many lives and I deserve to be hanged, Peter. So, no, forgiveness and atonement are out of my reach. For now, I want to find my memories, get my head fixed, and then begin to make amendments.”

                “Like what you did for my daddy,” Peter said.

                “What?”

                “You left, even though pops didn’t want you to and it was for my daddy because he doesn’t like you.” Peter said this with a straight face and old eyes. “And you’re trying to make me feel better. At least, that’s what Sam said you were supposed to do.”

                “Yeah, kid, something like that.”

Peter scrutinized Bucky for a moment. It looked adorable seeing his face scrunched up and Bucky held back a genuine smile, until Peter nodded in finality. He went back to drawing onehanded. Bucky squeezed the one holding his flesh hand.

 

Bucky orders pizza because apparently people are lazy to get their own food. Although, it helps when most nights he can’t drown out the voices in his head telling him to _execute, finish, take down._

Peter likes thin crust with extra sauce, onions, mushrooms, peperoni, and Italian sausage. Bucky grins and when the delivery boy arrives he holds out the large pizza and a bottle of coke. All Bucky has is vodka and water, so the coke will do for Peter. They eat in silence. Peter takes two pieces and mushes together. He eats it like a sandwich.

                “Cute,” says Bucky.

Peter blushes red and pouts.

                “Boys are handsome, not cute,” Peter says.

                “Well, that for most cases, but you’re cute. The cutest little boy I’ve ever met,” Bucky teases, a remnant not stolen from HYDRA.

Peter puffs up his chest and takes a big bite of his pizza sandwich, to which he gags on and drinks coke.

Bucky rubs the boy’s back and holds back a chuckle. Of course, that’s when his door is blasted through and yells are heard.

                “Your dads are here,” Bucky says.

* * *

 

Tony enters, hands raised and boosters ready to blast. Steve trails behind him dragging Sam in tow.

                “Let go, man! This is kidnapping,” Sam yells.

Tony drowns him out and scans the ugly room.

Peter sits at a table that looks it should be put to rest. His son has pizza crust on his shirt and sauce on his mouth. There is nothing physically wrong and it seems the Winter Soldier hasn’t tried anything.

                “What’s up?” Bucky says.

Tony uses his self-control not to shoot him in the face. Instead, he lifts his faceplate, glaring at the man. It does nothing (obviously).

                “Pete, how many times have we told you not to go off,” Steve says. He has his full-on Captain Pops voice.

Peter who looked more confused before now has the most devastated frown on his face. Tony is aware why Peter knows his parents are being crazy, but the boy has too much curiosity for his own good. And yeah, the tension from this morning and the screaming in the work room probably weren’t endearing.

                “I know,” Peter says. He shrinks into his seat.

                “It was my idea.” Sam tries to assuage the situation.

Steve puts him in a headlock.

                “Shut up, Sam,” Tony says.

He deactivates his armor. The suit turns into a suitcase.

                “Peter,” he says. He stops and breathes. “We’re not mad. Your pops and I just don’t like when you go off. But….Sam was with you and someone knew where you were. If Sam,” he points. Steve squeezes a bit in the headlock. “Hadn’t taken out your GPS, then we could have found you earlier.”

                “Are you mad because I’m with Bucky?”

He can see how this looks and gives his son points for bravery.

                “I am,” he admits.

                “Peter,” Steve says. “Go with your daddy. I need to talk to these two. Later, we have some stuff to talk about.”

Tony goes to his son and lifts him up. He’s gotten heavier but Tony ignores the ache in his muscles. He looks to Steve. Tony turns back to Bucky who seems…sad to say goodbye.

Tony sighs. Maybe having Steve’s ex-whatever won’t be so bad. Every once in blue moon.

* * *

 

Tony steps out and Steve loosens his hold on Sam.

                “Talk,” he says.

He’s angry. There is no doubt. The two of them better have a good reason for taking Peter.

Bucky’s the first to speak.

                “I killed Stark’s parents.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is confused, Tony did not know Bucky was the one who killed his parents. He only knew some of the terrible things and that Steve (his husband) may have had feelings for Bucky.


	14. Dilemma

“Excuse me,” Steve says.

                “I killed Tony’s parents.”

Steve backs away numbness spreading in his extremities.

                “Bucky….” He cannot breathe. “Please. Lie to me. Tell me it’s a fucking sick joke. Buck?”

Bucky looks at Steve unwavering.

                “Goddammit! Bucky! No, no, no, no, no, no,” Steve chants.

He is on his knees when Bucky shakes him.  

Steve shoves him away.

The crestfallen look on his face does not soothe Steve’s nerves.

                “Where’s Sam?” Steve asks upon noticing the missing Falcon.

                “Punched me in the face then left,” Bucky answers. Evidence of the punch blooms on his jaw. “Good hit,” Bucky admits rubbing it.

Steve cannot say if he would have stopped Sam. Steve gets off the floor and stares at Bucky. At his unruly, his metal arm….the bags under his eyes. He shudders.

                “Steve?”

                “No,” Steve says. “Just don’t, Buck.”

Bucky stays in his spot.

                “Where’s your fags?” Steve says.

                “What?”

                “Your stash, Bucky. You had that habit of sneaking a puff every so often no matter how much it fucked up my asthma,” Steve says.

He moves about the apartment, frantic. His fingers shake and objects drop from his hands. Steve finds Bucky’s room. The bed and everything in the room is bleak and utilitarian. Steve cannot pass the threshold. A hand brushes his shoulder. Steve is a rock. Bucky passes him and lifts his neatly folded pillows. In his human hand is a pack of Marlboro.

                “Catch,” he says.

Steve comes to life.

He takes one out and asks for the lighter. Bucky throws it to him. Steve takes both to the open window of Sam’s apartment. He lights it and puffs a few out to let it burn.

                “I never thought you’d smoke,” Bucky says.

                “I don’t. But this,” he croaks out a laugh. “This calls for it.”

Steve smokes in silence. Bucky stares the whole time.

                “What was the point of telling me?” Steve asks.

Bucky does not answer.

                “I can’t keep this from Tony. I won’t. When he finds out you’ll never see us again,” Steve says. He takes one last puff and puts it out on the sill. He looks at Bucky.

Bucky does not speak.

                “What the hell is going through your head? Bucky, this is Tony’s family. His mother. You killed her under control of HYDRA, but Tony won’t give a shit. He’ll come after you unless you leave now and never come back,” Steve says.

Bucky begins to turn.

                “ANSWER ME!” Steve screams.

                “What is there to say?” Bucky whispers.

                “Why did you tell me? I would have never guessed it was you. I never wanted it to be you.”

                “Did you have suspicions?”

                “I knew HYDRA had a hand in their death. I looked at the files from SHIELD, but there was a lot of data missing. It doesn’t even you are the Winter Soldier. It just says asset something or codename Winter Soldier. Nat and I assumed some of the missions were kept under wraps from less secure bases.”

                “Yes. They had me do…the grunt work. Stuff no sane person would touch,” Bucky says.

                “Nat has a souvenir from one of your run-ins.” The bullet wound in Natasha’s gut is visible in Steve’s eyes. “You were thorough even as a regular soldier.”

Bucky deflates.

Steve steps closer to him.

                “Bucky, why did you tell me?”

Bucky seems to curl in on himself. This time he steps away from Steve.

                “You know I have to tell Tony. You know he’ll come after you. Bucky, answer me, please,” Steve pleads.

                “It is so bad to hope you’d choose me,” Bucky says.

Steve is stone again. Bucky takes out a cigarette. He grabs the lighter still in Steve’s hand and puffs a few times.

Bucky smokes rings into the hallway.

                “Bucky,” Steve asked strained. “I-I…..what the hell….Bucky. What the fuck are you saying?”

                “I want you to choose me. I want you to leave Tony and I’ve given you the perfect out. I like Peter.” Bucky inhales the last drags of the cigarette. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids.”

Steve’s running out. He punched Bucky in the face. He’s running the track he used to with Sam. The bright dusk shines in his face. Steve runs from it. He runs and gets hit by a car. He gets up and keeps going. Steve runs.

Steve halts when he sees the Washington Memorial. He is at the opposite end of the pool between it and him. Steve collapses on the ground. There he feels the buzz of his cell. Steve scrambles to get it out of his pocket.

                “Hello,” he says panting.

                “Steve,” Tony’s concerned voice says.

                “Tony, honey.”

                “Where’ve you been? Sam said you and Barnes had some shit to hash out. Don’t worry, Peter’s in the other room.”

                “….oh. Yeah. We-we had some stuff,” Steve says.

                “I guess you two trashed Sam’s place if you’re panting this much. Swing by your old place, that’s where we are. Peter’s having fun with your record collection you left here,” Tony says.

He sounds carefree and relaxed. Steve wants to keep it like that.

                “Sure,” he says.

He cannot.

                “And Tony…there’s something I have to tell you,” Steve says.

                “Anything, Cap.”

* * *

 

Steve walks up the familiar stairs to his DC apartment. He sees the door. Dear god, how long has it been? Two, three years perhaps. Steve gulps. He walks toward the polish oak and stares. The brass 4 on it. He stares. Tony’s bound to know he’s here. The man always said Steve’s footfalls are thunder claps outside his uniform. He opens the door to Tony about to open it.

                “Steve,” Tony says, smiling.

Steve embraces his husband. He kisses Tony. Kisses like he should have the first time they. Kisses him like he should have when he found Tony alive in the desert with Rhodey. Kisses him like on their wedding day. Kisses him for it just may be the last time he can.

                “Woah, woah. Cap,” Tony says.

                “We need to talk.”

Tony’s eyes shine as Steve manhandles him into the bed room.

                “Sam.”

                “Yeah, Steve,” Sam says. He looks ashen.

                “Take Peter out for dinner to anywhere. And, if you can,” Steve digs out his wallet and throws it at Sam. “Do anything else you can think of. Get a hotel if you want and we’ll pick up Peter later.”

                “Cap—”

                “Please Sam,” Steve says.

Sam reluctantly takes Peter who stares at his pops scared.

                “Steve, what’s going on?” Tony asks.

Steve waits until Sam and Peter are gone.

                “I know who killed your parents.” Steve turns to Tony. His husband’s mouth hangs open. Tears pool in Tony’s eyes. “And you can’t kill him.”


	15. Schism

Tony stares at Steve. His Steve.  His husband and second father to Peter. Tony grabs the man’s stupid perfect collared shirt and squeezes it in his hands.

                “Barnes.”

Steve nods.

                “Fucking Barnes! Dammit.”

Tony shoves Steve away. He stalks into the living room where his suits in briefcase form.

                “Tony, what do you think you’re doing?”

                “Getting rid of a pest,” Tony says. He activates the sensors in his watch and immmediatley the Iron Man armor clings to his body like a second skin. “I won’t kill him, Steve,” Tony sneers. “I’m just gonna rip off his other arm.”

                “Tony!” Steve shouts in his Captain voice. “You can’t do that. I’ve just laid a bomb on you and you’re using the first thing that pops in your head. We need to stay and talk. Some…other things happened and I-God, Tony. Please, just stay here.”

Tony raises his gauntlets.

                “What things?”

His husband does not look him in the eyes. His faceplate is down. Steve only looks away when—

                “Did he kiss you?!” Tony shouts. “Did you kiss him?!”

                “No, no. Tony no. Honey—”

                “What the hell happened? He tells you he killed my parents and what, Steve,” Tony growls.

                “He said he loved me. Tony—Aaaaaaggggghhhhhh!”

Steve is blasted on his bed. The repulsors were on stun, but Steve won’t stay down for long. Tony blasts the window and flies out to the Washington sky. He has a man to kill.

* * *

 

Steve crushes him against the wall.

                “Vatican Cameos!”

The suit melts off his skin. A betrayed look must be on his face for Steve to back away. Barnes is wheezing in the destroyed apartment of Sam Wilson. His metal arm in shreds on the ground.

                “Baby Moses,” Steve says before Tony can reactivate the armor.

The suit’s now inoperable for 24 hours.

                “Look what you’ve done,” Tony says. His voice sounds foreign. “You son of a bitch. That—that freak killed my mom. I don’t care that his brain was fucking scrambled. He killed her! My mother Steve. You were there. At their funeral.”

The memory floats in Tony’s head.

_It was cloudy and freezing. Snow covered the cemetery and the black attire against the whiteness only made it seem like an old movie instead of his parent’s funeral. The bit of color came from the brass men who wore their uniforms as respect for his dad. Tony’s buzzed as but in his hazy state he could see few in the crowd from the church and here who had come for Maria Stark._

_He wavers as the priest and men “lay his parents to rest.” He identified their bodies. There was no peace._

_The crowd dispersed in troves heading for the small banquet in honor of Howard Stark at the Plaza’s Terrace Room. Tony stayed behind, no longer buzzed and bordering on overdose. He took a few painkillers after his third brandy._

_He stared at the frozen earth disturbed by the diggers. The coffins hidden underneath a giant tombstone in their family plot. A third one sits by it for him someday. That may be sooner than his mother like._

_“Tony,” said the last voice he wanted to hear._

_“What do you want, Captain? Come to pay dear old dad respect.”_

_“Him and Maria. And I wanted to make sure you got home safe, son,” Captain Rogers said._

_Tony keens. He did not turn his gaze. The captain sighed heavily. He walked in the crunching snow. He placed a bouquet of paper calla lilies. To his dad, the captain places a wreath of black ribbons._

_“You make those?” Tony asked, voice choked._

_“Yes. Your father was a friend of mine despite everything and your mother was kind enough to accept me as one too. We talked about you a lot, Tony. Maria,” Captain Rogers turns to look at him in the eye. “Maria wants me to watch out for you. I promised her I will. I want to. You…” Captain Rogers stopped. “You need to know there are people who care for you, Tony, who will miss you if you don’t try to live a good life.”_

_“What the fuck that means?”_

_“I don’t know. However you think is best. Fall in love, get married, and raise a family. Or keep with your projects and company. What do you want, Tony?”_

                You, _he thought_

_Tony passed out and woke up in a hospital with a stomach pump._

And the rest is history.

                “I remember,” Steve says. “How can I forget? I know what you’re feeling now Tony—”

                “Then let me kill him,” Tony demands.

                “I can’t. I owe Bucky my friendship. He wasn’t supposed to be in battle anymore. He was supposed to be home, safe.  I won’t fight him for what they made him do.” Steve turns to Barnes kneeling and nursing his sparkling shoulder. “I won’t fight you. But, Buck, they’re my life. Tony and Peter are my life. I won’t lose them to this.”

                “Too late,” Tony says. “You don’t’ get to decide for me Steve. I’m not that scared kid anyhmore. I had every right to kill him for humanity and you-you won’t let this garbage go.” It drips like acid in his throat these words. “You’ve chosen him over me already.”

                “No, Tony,” Steve reaches out.

                “Stop! Don’t touch me again. You can have the murderer. But I’d rather die than let you or him!” Tony points to Barnes who stares unblinking. “Near my son.”

Steve’s visage pales.

                “Tony, please.”

                “I’m leaving you here with him. Have a fucking happily ever after. Mr. Doubtfire,” Tony says. His rocket boots and gloves come back on and meld to him. Tony flies out the hole in the doorway.

* * *

 

Peter stares at the empty seat next to Tony. The man knows what his child wants to ask. He’s grateful Peter’s intuitive and smart enough to stay quiet for the moment. He cannot explain what is happening yet. He needs time to iron out the details and find a lawyer for Steve who can represent him. God knows, the man won’t unless it’s Agent Coulson. Tony is sure Coulson’s qualified to be an attorney. The plane lifts off and soon they’ll be back in Manhattan. Tony will put Peter to bed and read him a story from Aesop’s fables.

                “Daddy,” Peter says so softly.

                “Not now, Pete,” Tony says exhausted.

There’s no evidence of what happened. The armor soaked most of the impacts and Steve held back. A little bruising in his ribs and scraped knuckles from Barnes are all he has from the fight. Peter’s smart. Too smart for his age. Tony hopes he can come up with something to tell Peter. An utter lie sounds right about now.

                “Peter,” Tony says. “Come here, please.”

Peter unbuckles and joins Tony on his side. Tony lifts him onto his lap.

                “Whatever comes just remember your pops and I love you. We love you so much,” Tony says. He hugs Peter tight against him. Peter hugs back with the same strength.

 


	16. Memories-Steve

_The chopper landed. Steve rushed out pass Colonel Rhodes and to the man kneeled in the desert sand._

_“Mr. Stark,” Steve breathed._

_The man, Tony Stark, looked up at him. Blood on his shoulder blistered sun skin and some sort of blue mechanical device under his shirt; the man was breath taking._

_“I’ve told you,” Tony rasped. Steve fumbled for his canteen. “I’m Tony. Not Mr. Stark.”_

_Tony laughed. He leaned against Steve._

_“Tony! Tony!”_

_Steve pushes the weak man a little._

_“Drink,” he said._

_He rolled his eyes. Rhodes caught up by then and squatted next to them._

_“How was the Humvee?” he asked._

_Tony stuck out his pinkish tongue. Steve brought the canteen to his lips. Tony drank small sips, with a dithering look in his eyes. Rhodes chuckled._

_“Next time you ride with me or the Captain,” Rhodes said._

* * *

 

_The next day they arrived back in Los Angeles. Steve walked out with Tony. Down the platform is his very pretty assistant, Pepper Potts._

_“Ma’am,” Steve nodded._

_“Captain…Tony,” she said, tears misted in her eyes._

_Tony embraced her. They let go and she fumbled with her words, about getting the car ready and such. She left. Steve is alone with Tony for the first time since his capture. They glanced at each other._

What the hell do they say?

_“Thanks,” Tony said. “You know for the rescue and such. And if you’re ever in need of some mineral water to replace that well scum you made me drink…you know where I live….”_

_Tony rubbed his arm._

_“It’s all in my duty to protect you,” Steve said. He cringed inside. The way it made him appeared the gallant knight and Tony the damsel. “I mean—”_

_“I know,” Tony said coldly. “Mother’s dying wishes.”_

_He walked off to the awaiting Rolls Royce. Steve kicked himself for such stupidity._

* * *

 

_Steve watched the headlines of Tony, sitting on the floor, calorie filled burger in hand, and his announcement to end weapons manufacturing._

_“Good on you, Tony,” Steve said, lifting his wine._

_It’s early and he’s home alone cooking himself Bolognese sauce because he’s so damn bored. Although, if Coulson is back then he’ll have someone to share his meal with._

_Not two minutes later, the door knocks._

_“It’s open, Coulson,” Steve calls. “You and Sharon are the only two people who visit.”_

_The door opens and sure enough, Coulson is there. Steve hopes one day the man will not hero gaze at him. He believed inviting Coulson to dinner at his place in D.C. would be enough for the man to realize he is just some kid from Brooklin. Steve’s not known for making the best decisions. Altruistic decisions that inconvenience or otherwise make him uncomfortable, that he can do._

_“I brought some Merlot and an ice box lemon pie,” he says, voice pitched. “Oh, I, uh, I also have a DVD we can watch.”_

_Coulson help up the rectangle flat box. It had a picture of Batman on it._

_“I don’t have a DVD player yet,” Steve admitted. He is still not over the fact movies can be rented at stores and watched at home on your leisure._

_“I also have it in VHS.” Coulson produces the larger box with the same logo on it._

_“Okay then,” Steve said._

_Dinner is the usual affair without Sharon. Coulson talks in sputters about his life and his love for his country. He’s told some stories of his service time. Steve likes to hear them because Coulson is less strained. Dinner ends. They set up the movie._

_“How was Tony?” Steve asks._

_“Stark,” Coulson says. “Didn’t have an opportunity to talk to him. I plan on arranging it soon.” Coulson pauses. “When you rescued him, was there anything new, anything at all that seem odd or peculiar?”_

_Steve thinks back to the plane ride home_.

Tony is fast asleep and uses Steve’s arm as a pillow. Steve’s breath catches. He looks down at the worn face of this man.  The sun gave him an even tan, despite the blisters and he seems at peace for the first time. Steve sighs. Carefully, he brushes the curly head of Tony. His hair is like crushed satin, smooth and textured. He looks at the sleeping form and notices the small light from Tony’s chest. His shirt’s a bit unbuttoned. Steve unbuttons the rest. He gasps. Inside Tony’s chest….

_“Nothing I know of,” he tells Coulson._

_Coulson stares at Steve. His is impassive as normal and nothing has changed in his posture. Coulson knows Steve is lying._

_“Well then,” he says. “I’ll just have to be persistent.”_

* * *

 

_“What the hell!”_

_Steve slams the door off its hinges. Tony stands in his living room, arms crossed, brow quirked. Unimpressed._

_“Aren’t you supposed to knock? I mean, god Steve, ripping off some guy’s door sends the wrong message to impressionable youngsters,” Tony sneered._

_Steve got in his face._

_“What the hell, Tony. You’re Iron Man. Do you know how lucky you are to be alive now? How close to death you were in that Godforsaken cave?”_

_Tony’s eye twitches. Steve never sees the punch. Tony had a gauntlet on._

_“You don’t get to fucking lecture me, Cap! I was there. Every goddamn day. I’ve got the scars to prove it,” Tony says. He rips his tank off. The arc reactor glows a blue light. “Shrapnel is inside me and fucking up my blood. I have a Tin Man heart now. Like my dad. So, yeah, I know. I still feel their hands on me. I can’t sleep. I-I…..last night I cried for—…Obadiah tried to….”_

_Steve recovers. A bruise blooms on his face. He comes to Tony._

_“I’m here,” Steve says. He cannot help it. Sometimes, he’s reminded of the age gap and sees Tony as the seventeen year old kid he met in Howard’s foyer. Dressed in slacks and new shoes, smiling broadly. A beautiful creature at seventeen and now a gorgeous man. Steve holds Tony up by his shoulders afraid an embrace will trigger the broken man._

_Tony wails. He punches Steve’s chest, the gauntlet hurting, and sobs as he does so. Steve never lets go._

_“You’re-hic-here…because….because of some shitty obligation you have to my dad. He’s gone, Steve. He can’t judge you anymore.”_

_Steve’s not sure the last part is meant for him._

_“I promised your mother, Tony.”_

_“She’s dead!”_

_Tony stops. He collapses into Steve’s chest._

_“Why? Why do you hate me?”_

_“Tony,” Steve says. “I don’t hate you. I love you, so much.”_

_The room freezes. Steve swallows. Tony lifts his head._

_“Really?” he whispers._

_Steve nods. Tony surges forward. The momentum drops them on the floor. Tony misses Steve’s lips and lands the kiss on his neck. Steve’s blood sings to his south region. He maneuvers Tony until their pelvises meet. Tony gasps quietly._

_“Oooh, Captain my Captain,” Tony coos._

_His body thrums at that. Tony’s Captain. He likes it._

_“We haven’t even kissed, and you’re insinuating I’m that kind of lad,” Tony pouts._

_Steve cannot speak. He grips Tony’s neck softly and kisses him. Hard._

_A few hours pass in enthusiastic exploration. They destroyed the living room and in the process ended up in Tony’s giant bed. Steve panted, sweat covering him. Tony lies on his chest catching his breath too._

_“That,” Steve says. “That, hah, was incredible.”_

_“I know I am,” Tony says._

_“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “You are.”_

_Tony curls up on Steve like a cat. If Steve can believe his sex hazed brain he hears purring. Tony looks up at Steve. He smiles broad and caresses the crushed satin hair. Tony’s eyes mist._

_“I…” Tony whispers. “About what you said…” he ducks his head on Steve’s chest. “I do too.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never wrote about their love life and how they got together. I figured it might be a good intermission before more heavy stuff. Reminder: I don't do smut.


	17. Memories-Tony

_He’s drunk. He’s high. He’s asleep in the cave in agonizing pain, but at peace with Yinsen telling him about his family. Tony is sure three of them are true. Because he’s deliriously happy._

_And Tony’s only deliriously happy when shit hits the fan. He’s waiting for the shoe to drop._

_He thinks it will when he and Steve have a fight not three days later._

_It had to do with Pirate Fury and the Avengers initiative. Something silly._

_Anywho, Steve stormed out, all tense captain march and stole one of Tony’s bikes._

That’s it, _Tony thought._ I can say it lasted longer than most of my fantasies with him.

_Steve returned to Tony. He cannot recall much because he drank himself into a stupor. Tony awoke the next morning to Steve’s patented hangover cure. Bacon and apple cider vinegar mixed with Sprite. Tony gags it down and feels better._

_“I shouldn’t have left like that,” Steve says first. He sits in the desk chair facing Tony on the bed. He’s wearing his track suit and the dark patches must be his sweat. Tony forgets how human Steve really is under all that serum._

_“You always have,” Tony retorts. It’s true. Whenever he and the Cap fought, Steve left and they would not speak for a while. “’s alright.”_

_“No. Not anymore,” Steve says. “We’re…a couple?”_

_“If that’s two people who fuck like rabbits, then yes,” Tony says. God, why does have to put a label on this? Old timer._

_“So, yes. We’re in a romantic relationship. I need to handle our arguments better.”_

_“Because you don’t wanna come to me shitfaced off my ass.” Tony means as a joke, but acid drips from his teeth._

_“I don’t want to be the reason you drink. I don’t want to upset you so much that you_ have _to drink to feel better. I want to argue with you and not worry I’ve ruined this before it can start,” Steve says determined jaw set._

_Tony’s been around the man long enough to see his tells. His ramrod straight back does not hide well the shuddering in his shoulders from his hands._

_“Steve…Cap…if anyone ruins this it’s gonna be me, not you,” Tony says._

_“I’m not a damned saint, Tony. I have issues too. Ones you won’t believe. But,” he stops. Steve gets up and sinks in bed next to where Tony lies. “Please, tell me you meant what you said.”_

_Tony swallows._

                Cut him loose, _a part of him screams._ Cut him loose before he sees the monster Howard left.

_“Yes,” Tony says. “I do.”_

_“Do you love me? Do you love Captain America?” Steve asks. His voice sounds anguished._

_Tony remembers stories his Aunt Peggy told him of how shy the pre-serum Steve was and insecure of his appearance to women. How the serum hid his artificial imperfections and no one knew who he was but liked him better. Even old bullies._

_“Steve,” Tony says. Steve turns to him. “I love Steve.”_

_Hope wells in Steve’s eyes. “Me.” Tony nods. “Thank god,” he says._

_Steve lies next to Tony. The blinders are closed and the only light comes from the desk. It casts the room in an eerie orange glow. Tony sighs in the fresh linens._

_“Did you change the sheets?”_

_Steve reddens. “There was…a lot of smells in the others. And I figured you needed some fresh ones to sleep on.”_

_“Thanks,” he says. “I do mean it. That I love you and not Captain America. Though, fantasizing about the Cap was hot for me at fourteen it lost its charm pretty soon. But then, you came and…it got better,” Tony word vomits. “I always thought if this happened…we’d be at some diner or one of my galas that you actually showed up for. We would dance like in the old movies and everyone would part for us and smile….” Tony cannot stop. “Then we’d go back to my place—”_

_“Not mine?” Steve asks, bemused._

_“Mine’s bigger to fit your bulk. Plus the steel frame helps,” Tony says and heats up again, despite the ache still in his head and Steve’s exercise sweat.  “You would initiate the kiss. And I would do the rest. I assumed you were pure as pie, so I would show you how stuff goes where. But then, when we spent time together, I was way off. So, we would both be nervous and probably not do too much.”_

_“Not bad,” Steve says._

_“Yeah, I’m still pretty drunk,” Tony says._

_“Yeah,” Steve says. “Get some rest.”_

_Tony nuzzles into the goose down pillow. It smells of Steve’s cheap shampoo._

_“Did you sleep here last night?”_

_“Of course I did,” Steve says._

_“Hm, tell me a story,” Tony says._

_“About what?”_

_“Anything.”_

_The bed dips. Tony is wrapped in strong corded muscle with the pillow still under his head._

_“Once upon a time, a knight awoke from his slumber….”_

* * *

 

_“Let’s get married,” Steve says._

_Tony’s jaw drops. They’ve just defeated the super mutated freaks that some HYDRA base had terrorizing Los Angeles. It is past 3 am and Steve’s smiling like a lovesick loon._

_“Aren’t I suppose to be impulsive?” Tony answers._

_“Oh, you are. And unprepared,” Steve says. He reaches into his charred suit and pulls out a lead box. It opens to reveal a platinum ring. “It’s a small bit of vibranium from my shield. I had help from Dr. Banner.”_

_Tony stares mouth agape._

_Steve gets on one knee and holds out the ring box._

_“Tony Edward Stark, since my first few months in this new world, you’ve been a constant for me despite my ineptitude toward technology. You’ve never seen me as anything more than a man. For that and being my first new friend, I love you. Will you marry me?”_

_What else could Tony say?_

_Fury glares one eyed at them. Coulson has the rice in his hands and Bruce is holding the cake Tony got from the only open grocery store at this hour. Natasha and Clint are on either side of them awaiting the decision from their director. Behind Fury, Maria shakes her head in exasperation._

_“You believe I have any authority over marital status,” Fury repeats._

_“Not only that, but I know you’re rank and favors actually allow you to marry anyone to anyone within the continental United States,” Tony says, smirking._

_A vein pulses on his bald head. Tony dusts imaginary lint from his white Versace pinstripe. He’s lucky he had a great suit packed, courtesy of Pepper, and looks this good for his wedding. Steve wears his official uniform. His medals shining and lapels ironed. Tony cannot wait to rip everything off with his teeth._

_Fury sighs in defeat._

_“Don’t know who you hacked to find out, but yeah, I’ve got that. Hill,” he says. Maria comes to him. “Get a music stand and a Bible.”_

_In the time it takes Maria to return, they have set up a small folding table and chairs with the cake and champagne Clint produced from his pack.  Tony and Steve stand across from each other, Bruce as his best man and Natasha for Steve. Clint holds the rings Tony bought from a grumpy jeweler who had to get up at before dawn. Coulson stands off to side with Maria as Fury gets the stand ready._

_“So, this is going to be nice and easy,” he said and cleared his throat.  “Stark, Rogers, place your hands on this holy book.” They do. “By the power of me from people who would’ve imprisoned all of you I induct this marriage. Stark, do you take Rogers?”_

_“Always.”_

_“Okay, Rogers, you take him?”_

_“I do,” Steve says._

_“All right. You can kiss. Hill get the champagne open,” Fury says._

_Coulson throws rice. Bruce and Natasha high five. Maria opens the champagne with a_ pop!

_This commotion happens, but Tony still looks into Steve’s eyes. Flecks of brown stare at him. Steve’s larger hand on top of his. For once, his life is good._

_The spell breaks when Clint coughs._

_“The rings,” he says._

_Steve smiles broadly. They each take their rings and put them on each other._

_“We can get them engraved later,” Steve says._

_“Hell, I can do it when we get home….”_

_Home. That’s it. Tony has a home with Steve._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I ever mentioned anything different about their wedding, please tell me. I reread this one and the first one, but I could have missed something. Please and thank you.


	18. The Truth about Bullies

Daddy walks Peter to the door. The academy is huge and has lots of shrubbery around it. Peter giggles at the word. The new uniform shirt is stiff in the collar. Peter pulls at it to loosen.

                “Yeah, I know Arachno-kid. Just wear it for a couple of days and the collar will loosen on its own,” Daddy says.

                “I will, daddy,” Peter says. Peter squeezes his dad’s hand. Pops has not come back home from his mission in D.C. and it makes dad sad. Peter looks up at his daddy. His sun glasses are blue today, but it makes Peter think of how red his eyes are under them. Daddy’s spending a lot of time in his workshop. He stopped letting Peter in. Peter feels a squeeze from daddy.

                “This is where Harry goes,” he says. “So, you and him can raise all kinds of hell.”

                “Language!” Peter exclaims.

Daddy crumples a bit. That how Peter sees it. His face goes sick and he stops dead in the empty hallway.

                “Hehe….funny, Pete.”

Peter is quiet for the rest of the walk. They reach the dean’s office. A woman greets them and tells them to sit in the bench. She tries to hand Daddy something. Peter holds out his small hands.

                “Daddy doesn’t like to be handed things unless by me or pops,” he says.

The woman smiles and gives him the papers. Peter looks up at daddy. 

                “I know we’re behind a few days,” he says to the woman, “but can we hurry up. I gotta get this little guy to Mrs. Sellers class.”

                “Mrs. Sellers retired,” the woman says, confused.

Daddy stares. “Excuse me, that’s wrong. She’s teaching in room 301. That’s the same as Harry Osborn.”

The woman’s face scrunches like a sour taste when Thor ate wasabi.

                “I apologize Mr. Stark, but….Harry Osborn is no longer a student of ours. I know because I did his transfer script. And Mrs. Sellers retired when she got her Winnebago.”

                “But,” Peter says. He gets off the bench. “Harry said he went here and that he liked it and that he was gonna show me the ropes when I got here. He said he’d be here—”

                “Peter.” Tony grips his shoulder. “I know all that. We’ll have to….see about this later.”

Peter is quiet throughout the meeting with the Dean Martin, which makes daddy chuckle, and listens as he is given the rundown of the school. He follows his daddy and the dean to Mr. Franz’s classroom in 305. Peter is introduced alone because daddy does not want the kids to see him. Here he is Peter Parker only because Daddy said the Stark name  is dangerous like James Bond.

                It is at lunch that the second new name comes.

                “Why’re you so puny?” A girl with curly pigtails asks.

Peter looks at her. She has a pinched nose, like the old board men daddy complains about.

                “I’m normal size for a preemie,” he says. “That’s what my pops told me. And daddy says I’ll grow normal once I hit puberty.”

                “No, you’re puny,” the girl says. “And you have two dads so there’s no milk to make you big and strong like me.” She leans in and takes one of Peter’s carrot sticks. He wishes he had someone with him now. He feels his throat constrict.

                “Parker, right?” she says. When Peter does not speak, she smiles wide. It is like the Cheshire cat. “Puny Parker,” she whispers. “Puny Parker,” she says louder. “Puny Parker!” she screams.

It starts as a trickle which becomes a roar when the students chant along. Peter swallows and runs.

He hides in a bathroom, but he’s made the worst mistake ever.

                _Peter, pops says. If there ever is a bully, ever, one thing you don’t do is run. If you start running they’ll never let you stop. You gotta stand up for yourself and push back ‘cause you can’t hide forever._

                “I’m sorry, Pops,” Peter whispers.

* * *

 

Ursa Vanderbilt is the girl in the pigtails. She makes fun of him because Peter has two dads. She follows Peter and throws things in his hair. Every morning, his locker opens to notes from her and others. They all say the same thing. “Two dads can’t have a baby.”

Peter does not understand.

He leaves school and Ursa’s there yelling with others chanting “Puny Parker, Puny Parker.”

Mr. Happy has not seen it nor his daddy who is back at the tower, his old home.

One day, Peter fights back. Ursa throws a spit ball and he dodges with his spidey-sense. He knows daddy told him to hide that when in school, but he needs to use it now.

                “Oooooh,” she says, “Puny’s getting better.”

Peter looks at her in the face. Ursa’s pinched nose crinkles with his gaze.

                “Why?” he asks.

Whatever she expected, Ursa seems to calm down for a moment.

                “Why do you do this? What did I do to you?” He should fight, but daddy says that fists are not the answer. Words help and the right words can get rid of any bully.

Ursa snaps and throws the straw at Peter. Peter catches it.

                “You have two dads and that’s not right. Dads don’t have babies. Only mommies can and my moms aren’t together. Mama had to leave and mommy married some stinky boy…” she stops. Her lips quiver and tears come out.

                “Ursa,” Peter says. He reaches out a friendly hand, but the bully (?) runs away from him.

Afterwards, the bullying gets worse. Peter takes it. He sees it is the only time Ursa smiles.

* * *

 

“Puny Parker! Puny Parker! Puny Parker…”

Peter runs to the car where Mr. Happy holds the door open. Peter ducks in and the door shuts. Mr. Happy stares at the kids for a moment and they disperse. Today, Mr. Happy sees them.  Peter shucks off his Superman backpack. He sniffs snot dripping down his nose. Mr. Happy yells at the kids outside of the car with the leader, Ursa, sticking her tongue at Mr. Happy.

He enters the driver’s seat.

                “Is daddy home?” Peter asks.

Mr. Happy breathes loud, like he does when he does not want to tell Miss Pepper something.

                “No, kid. Your dad’s…..Mr. Stark’s still at the tower. There’s repairs that need to be done since the Radioactive Man attack and..,” he stops. “How ‘bout you and I get some ice cream, today. I know it’s been a while since I took you to Serendipity.”

Peter nods. He picks up his backpack and takes out the wet toilet paper. A small trash bag lies off to the side of the backseat. Mr. Happy sighs again.

                “We can also rent a movie tonight if you want,” Mr. Happy says. “I think there’s some new stuff this week.”

Peter nods. He wipes his wet hands on his uniform pants. So far, school is terrible and he hates it, but pops wanted him to go and daddy agreed when they returned home. Peter bites his lip. Pops has not been back in weeks. Daddy’s always in the tower now. Peter looks at Mr. Happy.

                “Are…..are they getting divorced?” Peter says.

Mr. Happy almost hits another car. Tears pool at Peter’s eyes.

                “God, Pete. Who’ve you been talking with?”

                “Ursa,” Peter says.

“What did this Ursa say,” Mr. Happy says. He looks at Peter in the mirror.

“She says my dads aren’t supposed to have a kid. She says they’ll get divorced like her moms did and that daddy’ll marry a girl like her mom married a boy,” he stops. He thinks of how Ursa only smiles when she taunts him. “And…is that going to happen to me. Do I have to be a bully too when dads are divorced?”

                “No,” Mr. Happy says. “None of that’s going to happen, Peter.”

                “Then where are they,” Peter says. A thought, old and distant comes to Peter. “Are they…do they not want me….” He sniffs. “Aunt May gave me away…do—”

                “No, dammit. Bastard cut in front of me,” Mr. Happy says. “No, Peter. No.”

Peter sits in the back and watches the traffic from his window.

                “Bruce is at the mansion. We’ll head there right now. He’ll know what to do,” Mr. Happy says.

Peter nods.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is confused by Ursa's reasoning this is what happened: her birth mother,the Vanderbilt, and her other mother had her through in vitro and then the birth mother's family threatened to cut her off if she stayed with her lover. So, they split up and the birth mother had to marry a man. This messed with Ursa because she loves her other mother and not her step father, so she's been taking it out on other students. She targets Peter because he has two dads and she had to lose one of her moms. In her mind, only two moms can have a baby and two dads cannot. Remember, these are eight-year-olds.


	19. The Plan-Part 1

The mansion is quieter. Bruce notes this as he enters. There’s no one to greet him in the foyer and he cannot sense any eyes on him. That is good for what he’s about to do, but odd for the atmosphere.

                Hello, Dr. Banner.

                “Hey, JARVIS. I came to check on Peter,” Bruce says. He looks around. By now, Clint or Natasha should be spooking him. Usually Clint. Again, fortunate that this might work.

                The young master is on his way with Mr. Hogan. Miss Romanov and Mr. Barton are currently outside in the courtyard training. Col. Rhodes is here today making a snack for Peter in the kitchen.

Bruce nods. He hesitates to move any further in the big empty house.

                If I may be so bold, but how is Master Stark?

Back before Bruce’s research into gamma rays, he thought he would go the engineering route; even toyed with the idea of A.I.s. He’s happy he did not because to hear the eerily human voice asks about Tony….

                “He’s not dead,” Bruce says. “Tired. Won’t sleep unless I slip him something and barely eats. The new A.I., FRIDAY, is doing okay. She’s almost as punctual as you and….”

                I see.

A hint of jealousy in the A.I.’s voice gives Bruce the gumption to seek out his colleagues.

 

Rhodes is where JARVIS said. There is a small assortment of finger sandwiches on a tray in front of him and Bruce sees him making more with peanut butter.

                “This can’t all be for Peter.”

Rhodes looks up unsurprised at Bruce’s sudden appearance. Probably JARVIS alerted him to it.

                “It’s dinner too,” Rhodes says.

                “Kinda early,” Bruce replies. He looks at his watch. It is a quarter past four.

                “I can’t get Peter to eat a lot. I’ve been making him small meals, like these, and the others don’t cook much either.”

                “Oh,” Bruce says.

Rhodes stares at him for a pregnant moment.

                “Where the fucks Tony?” he grits out.

Bruce take three fire breaths. He’s learned the Big Guy can pop out if there’s a threat and to squash it he needs to breathe and not feel threatened. Logically, Rhodes’ anger is at Tony’s A+ parenting on how to handle Peter and whatever the hell happened in D.C.-none of them have the details-and he, like Bruce, is concerned for a friend and the wellbeing of the child. Bruce’s breaths finish.

He answers, “I have a plan, but I need you to keep Widow and Hawkeye busy.”

Rhodes stares again. He glances at the finger sandwhiches.

                “Peter’s getting bullied. He hasn’t said nothing about it, but I know.”

Bruce waits. Rhodes crosses his arms as if ready for battle.

                “What do I need to do?”

                “First, create a distraction when Hogan gets here and drops off Peter. One that will require Nat and Clint’s immediate attention. Hogan will follow them too while I stay with Peter.” Bruce pauses for any questions. Rhodes makes a “go on” gesture. “After you guys are out of the room, I’m grabbing Peter and we’re running across the street where Coulson has a car waiting for us. Then a trip to Avengers Tower.”

This time, Rhodes has questions.

                “Are you fucking mental? Tony’s in bad shape-Pepper told me,” Rhodes says before Bruce asks. “He’s drinking again and she’s able to keep it down some and you’re doing okay, but honestly you both suck.”

                “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Bruce says drily.

                “Whatever. Peter doesn’t need to see his dad like this. That’s why I’ve been here to make sure he’s doing fine.”

                “And next to Steve you’re one of the few who can get Tony to listen when he’s like this,” Bruce says. His heart monitor picks up, but slows. “Look, blaming won’t help us. I just need you as a distraction.”

Rhodes rubs his temples. He looks at Bruce again.

                “This shit goes south, I’m taking Peter to Steve. Don’t tell anyone, but Tony’s coping mechanisms are the same as Howard’s and I don’t want to see a repeat with Peter. Steve’s would be better at this single dad thing,” he says.

Bruce does not argue.

* * *

 

Bruce’s heart monitor peaks a bit in the black SUV. He glances at Peter’s red face in the mirror. The boy has not stopped crying. He also chances a look at Agent Coulson. The man agreed to help, but Bruce like with Natasha cannot be sure if he has an ulterior reason. The agent seems too blasé to be stuck in a car in Manhattan with a mutated spider kid and the Hulk. Bruce takes his fire breaths to let it go.

He glances at Peter again. Hogan took longer to get home than expected, so Bruce went to grab Peter’s favorite stuffed toys: Iron Mouse and Captain Americat. They are clutched in his hands as the car drives past the afternoon rush hour. Bruce looks at the gleam from Avengers Tower.

                _Soon,_ Bruce thinks.

 

The tower’s being renovated again. Tony mentioned making his family mansion the new headquarters for special reasons. Really, so Peter and they could have more room and a backyard. He thinks Steve suggested a camping night under the breech trees.

                “Happier times,” Bruce mutters.

Peter squeezes his hand. Bruce looks down at the little boy. He’s grown no longer the malnourished kid Steve brought home. Bruce squeezes back as reassurance. Peter looks up brown eyes still so innocent yet soulful.

He opens his mouth—

                “Dr. Banner,” Coulson interjects. “Shall we proceed?”

Bruce knows it’s not a request. He walks forward through the glass doors, Peter beside him, and they head to the elevator. If Tony has gotten around to changing the I.D. scanners then Coulson has a cheat code, then the new A.I. Pepper said she was more of a rule follower than JARVIS, so if FRIDAY was given specific orders to stop then Bruce has a way around her.

Coulson does not know.

The scanners let them pass with no trouble.

                _Tony’s gotta be in worse shape if he hasn’t done this yet,_ Bruce thinks. _It’s a simple enough algorithm Coulson can figure out._

The ride to the penthouse is uninterrupted. Peter’s nerves show as he shuffles and eventually clings to Bruce’s thigh. A lump forms in his throat.

                “Bruce,” Peter says. “What’s happening?”

That is a loaded question. Bruce opens and closes his mouth like a gold fish.

                “You’re fathers are in bad shape,” says Coulson.

Peter looks at him for the first time.

                “They had a fight, you remember?”

Peter nods.

                “Good. Both Steve and Tony are terrible at communication, which is the back bone of any relationship’s power. There’s a misunderstanding they cannot get passed, mainly Tony, and your other father Steve is unable to voice the real concerns. So, until those are resolved, it is of utmost importance that you, Peter, stay with one of them and visit the other. I have arranged for you to fly down to D.C. for next weekend to see Steve. And you are here to kick Tony into shape. He needs you,” Coulson finishes.

Bruce swallows the lump and feels his tears mist. That was actually really sweet of Coulson.

                “They won’t send give me away,” Peter says, brokenly hopeful.

                “Never,” Coulson says.

The elevator dings. They enter to a mess of haphazardly arranged furniture and glass shards. Bruce hikes Peter on his hip so he will not step on anything.

                “I’ll retrieve Stark,” Coulson says.

                “Sure,” Bruce says.

Peter starts to sniff again whether from the smell or just because Bruce is uncertain.

Tony’s been in the lab when he is not up here and he barely lets Bruce close to him. Honestly, Bruce has little idea of what is going with Tony than Pepper who’s only been close enough to tell the genius he stinks. Bruce knows why now, and then the shards of alcohol. The bar is empty as Bruce timidly walks closer with Peter clutching him along with the stuffed toys.

                “Where’s daddy?” Peter cries.

                “I don’t know yet,” Bruce answers. A couch that is relatively clean Bruce sits down Peter in his lap. “Coulson left and I think Tony’s here unless he’s in the lab.”

                Mr. Stark is in his room.

Bruce feels Peter jump in his lap. He did that too upon hearing the Irish lilt of a woman’s voice.

                Pardon. I did not mean to startle you, PETER STARK-ROGERS, I simple meant to answer your question. Mr. Stark and Agent Coulson are currently talking in his room.

                “Thank you,” Peter says. “What’s your name?”

                FRIDAY. I am new to the tower’s interface.

                “Are you JARVIS’ sister?”

                I suppose yes. We were manufactured by the same inventor. Though, DUM-E  would be my eldest brother as he is the first Mr. Stark made.

                “I know. He makes me milkshakes,” Peter says.

                Not with oil. Mr. Stark has complained about that on many occasions. 

                “No, he makes them good,” Peter says.

Bruce lets them chat. It has gotten Peter to unlatch from him and the boy is not as red faced.

Now to wait for Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was hoping to have this whole fic finished before Christmas, but I only got these two chapters. I wanted to post them before I get too busy again. Please don't think I am taking another hiatus.


	20. Reunion

Tony feels the vibrations thud against his bed frame that hit his skull in painful waves. In his haze, he makes a noise. He thinks he makes a noise. His mouth opens and his larynx does something. A hand shakes him; Tony swats at it.

                “Mr. Stark, you need to get up,” the drone of Agent says.

Tony says (he’s sure), “Go ‘way.”

He sniff the air. His breath is rancid from brushing with whiskey.

                “It’s about Peter,” Agent says in a concerned drone voice.

That grasps Tony’s attention. With great effort he maneuvers himself to face where he thinks Agent is. His eyes are crusty so he slaps his hand over his closed lids and wipes at them.

                “Sit up if you can,” Agent says.

Tony tries but clearly Agent needs him in top shape for the man handles him until he is positioned upright.  A tube is pressed against his lips.

                “Drink this.”

Tony opens his mouth and the straw enters. He sucks to find his mouth full of the mixture. It must be Gatorade because it has a non-flavor flavor. Tony takes a few gulps  his mouth is impossibly dry.

                “Enough,” says Agent.

Tony finally opens his eyes to see Agent dressed as per usual with a pinched expression.

                “Pepper sent you,” he says.

                “Of course not, I never gave her my private number. I am here on a…magnanimous visit.”

Tony scoffs. “That what you and Fury call it. Magnanimity is code for ‘came to see how fucked up you are, Stark,’” he sneers.

The lines of the Agent’s mouth deepen.

                “No. I mean no one is aware of my current location and some of them believe I am in Kentucky or California. My tracker’s signals will converge soon and they’ll find me, until then I have only 51 minutes and 22 seconds to get you out of bed and reunited with your son.”

That statement jacks Tony’s memory.

                “What about Peter? He’s in school now so he’s okay,” Tony says.

Coulson shakes his head.

                “Peter’s exhibited signs of depression for a child his age. Loss of appetite and interests. He spends most of his time doing homework weeks in advance. He’s top of his class academically. Socially he is at the bottom. Romanov and Barton have been able to stave off the worst of it, however Peter asks for you daily. Furthermore, Peter’s being bullied for having same-sex parents,” Coulson finishes.

                “Seriously, why are _you_ here?” Tony asks. He ignores the information because it cannot be true. Then again, a quick sweep of the room-bottles, bottles, and tissues-has Tony shift in his spot on the unkempt bed.

                “I am here for the next 49 minutes 37 seconds because if your marriage does fail Peter won’t be going to neither you nor Rogers. SHIELD has orders to transfer Peter into a foster family under our surveillance.”

Tony swallows the lump in his throat. His eyes mist and he curls in on himself. They cannot do this.

                “You can’t do that. It’s kidnapping,” Tony says, though his chest aches.

                “Legally Peter is yours. However, if any social service director where to get wind of the details of yours and Rogers falling out they will question the safety of a child who has in his records mental issues—”

                “Peter’s fine. He’s-he’s smart…..”

Tony stops at Coulson’s raised hand.

                “Be that as it may, there is no denying Peter’s experienced trauma in the past. He has abandonment issues and can, in extreme measures, become mute. Along with his arachnid abilities which give him heightened senses and his intellect at such an age could lead him to having less…savory coping mechanisms in later years.”

Tony stares at Coulson’s face. Tears roll down his face but he sees the stoic man’s worry.

                “I’m a shitty dad,” Tony says. “And so’s Steve, but even you have to admit Coulson, no one’s gonna love or understand Peter more than the two of us. What….back in D.C. I lost….I just can’t see Steve yet. But, if you’ll leave I will go to my son and hug him.”

Coulson shifts the worry leaving.

                “He’s out on the couch waiting for you with Dr. Banner,” Coulson says. He turns but stops. “Don’t make me regret this. _I_ don’t want to take Peter away.”

* * *

 

Tony squeezes Peter tight in his arms. It does not bother Peter. Tony stinks from lack of hygiene and Peter’s sobbing all over with snot coming out. He does not care. Coulson left with a curt nod to Bruce who stays watching them.

Tony grabs under Peter’s legs and carries him to the boy’s old room. The space is empty except for the furniture including the bed sheets. Tony falls on it with Peter clinging to him. The boy can climb walls, he will not fall off Tony. Once they are lying down Tony feels Peter squirm in his hold. He loosens enough for the boy to look up at him.

                “You won’t-hic-give me away,” Peter says.

Tony swallows again.

                “Never, Pete. You’re the best thing to happen to me since Steve,” Tony says. This is all so sappy, but he is glad for it.

 

                “I bought Thai for dinner,” Bruce whispers from the door.

                “We’re not asleep, Green Jolly,” Tony says. Peter gets up and runs, probably smelling the Thai fried rice, and Tony stretches getting out the small bed. Bruce watches him, he knows, but for now he is stretching.

                “It was a risk, bringing Peter to you. I’d like to say I had no doubt—”

                “Stop there. I get I’m not father of the year. Not even in the running, but I know what’s really at stake here. Agent made some….revelations I’m ashamed I did not find out before. First things first, eat, and then figure out what to do. It goes without saying Peter won’t be returning to school,” Tony says.

                “Yeah,” Bruce says. “We’ll have to find him a new one, but for now I think its best he’s tutored by me and JARVIS. And there’s more, but it can wait.”

                “All part of parenting,” Tony says. His lips turn up in something.

                “Come on before Peter eats all the curry.” Bruce motions for Tony to follow.

Before Tony leaves the darkness of the room, he asks one final question: “Has….has Steve called?”

Bruce looks at him a grimness set to his mouth.                

                “You can tell me,” Tony says.

                “He has,” Bruce answers. He sags for a moment. “He calls every day asking about you and Peter.”

                “Good,” Tony says. “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, I am posting whenever I have something done. I hope to have another chapter this weekend, but who knows.


	21. The Plan Part 2

Steve lied on his stomach. It was noon and he had not left his bed. He groaned. Licked his lips. His mouth had a chalky taste to it, probably from all the beer he’s taken on. Though, also maybe from eating chips for three days straight. Still, he was in tip-top form. Lovely, just lovely.

Should he bother getting out of bed today? Sam came by and yelled at him for a good hour the other day; no hang-overs meant he did not suffer a rattling sensation caused by noise, but seeing Sam pity him…Yeah, he’ll get up before Sam arrives.

Steve burrowed deeper in the covers, stench of his own unwashed body wafting to him. He did not care. Nor about the scratchy sting of his beard. He sighed to allow his morning hell to begin.

8:00 a.m. wake up and realize Tony’s not there.

8:01 a.m. remember it’s your fault.

8:03 a.m. worry about Peter

8:04 a.m. worry about Tony.

8:05 a.m. cry on the inside for not being there to see your boy.

8:06 a.m. hate yourself.

8: 07 a.m. knock on the door, ignore Bucky.

8: 08 a.m. close your eyes.

8: 30 a.m. wake up again.

 

He repeats his cycle until noon when Sam returns for lunch. Outside the door, Steve heard his old friend murmuring to himself on the couch. He could not refuse to give Bucky shelter after Sam’s place had been demolished, so, both Bucky and Sam lived with him. He stayed cooped in his room most days until Sam came to yell at him. Then, he’d leave. Bucky never followed.

The former Winter Soldier learned that the first time.

 

_Steve sat alone in the bar. The DC Eagle was a bar with limited staff on week days. No one had the time to bother him._

_“Hey, stranger,” came a familiar voice. It sounded fragile._

_Steve stared at his glass. It was a martini, the same Tony loved, dry and with two olives._

_“Steve?” Bucky reached out and touched Steve’s shoulder._

_When he did not budge, the man sat next to him on the stool._

_“Talk to me, please,” Bucky pleaded._

_In that, Steve lost it._

_“About what? How my husband took our son? How he won’t answer my calls? How it’s been three days and I can’t access our account or any of his company’s other resources?” He turns to Bucky. Rage fills his eyes. “Something more personal. Why this happened? Why you told me about…God damn you, Bucky!”_

_Steve slams the drink on the table, shattering it. The bartender looks his way, weary caution in his stance._

_Steve gets up and plops $200 on the table._

_He walks down the wooden stairs, his boots thumping loud on the old wood. Bucky follows him outside._

_“Would ya prefer I lie?” Bucky yells._

_Steve stays quiet._

_“Steve. I had to tell you. It had to be you. Stark wouldn’t understand. You saw him. He would’ve gutted me,” Bucky says. He reaches for Steve’s hand. Steve jerks away._

_“You told me in some desperate hope I’d choose you!” Steve screams._

_Bucky backs away. Steve steps forward._

_“I’ve mourned you. For decades I mourned you. You were my brother and more. I still have nightmares about you falling in the snow. For God’s sake, Bucky, I’ve cried to Tony about you.” Steve stops just short of being in Bucky’s space. “When I saw you alive on that bridge…I was happy. I could save you. I could get you back. I could have everything. I paid the price for that.”_

_Steve backs out._

_“Short of an act of God, Tony won’t forgive me for saving you. I may never see Peter again. I screwed up my marriage for you, Bucky. Don’t ask for anything else.”_

 

Steve lives in this limbo now. Bucky and him exist in the space but they have not spoken in weeks. Bucky attempted to speak with him with unsavory results. There are holes and broken furniture Sam has replaced. Steve receives a check from SHIELD monthly so he pays his rent and for the food.

Sam is the one who makes noise about the “wrongness” of this situation. Thus, Steve sits on his bed slumped over in his sweats and awaits Sam’s next tirade in the afternoon.

12:15 p.m. Steve finally leaves his bed.

Splashing water on his face to remove the grime from last night helps a bit. Though, facing himself in the mirror is difficult. He had been used to seeing Tony’s reflection looking back at him. How the man would admire himself in the mirror next to Steve. How Tony liked to remind Steve they were a “hot” couple.

He jolts back from the mirror. Steve pants and grips his thighs until his knuckles are white.

                “Steve, you up and showered at all!” yells Sam from the door.

Steve’s throat closes. He stares at the door. Sam knocks. Steve remains quiet. Sam pounds harder.

                “You can’t keep doing this, man! It’s not healthy.”

Sam stops. He always stops.

                “I’m taking Bucky out to lunch. We’ll bring you back something,” Sam says in a pleading tone.

He wants a response, but Steve is frozen in his mind.

 

Footsteps two pairs walk out of the small apartment.

Steve ventures out the bathroom and back to his bed. He opens his drawer for his cellphone.

1:00 p.m. stare at phone.

* * *

 

Barnes chews at his meal slowly. His one arm holds the sandwich like it is a snake. Sam sits across at the bistro. After hours of being suffocated by these two, it is a relief to get one of them out. Sam hums at Barnes’ lackluster hunger and bites big on his Philly cheese. They continue in this silent eating for the remainder of the meal.

The cute waitress returns and asks, “Can I interests you in dessert?” She looks directly at Bucky. Sam shakes his head at the poor girl’s flirting.

                “Just two coffees, black, and a piece of key lime for me,” Sam says.

The waitress dejected writes down the order and takes their plates.

Barnes’ still had fries on his. Sam coughs.

                “We need to talk,” he says. Bucky looks up at him like it is painful.

Sam’s not a fan of Barnes in fact he would rather through this guy on his ass then pity him. No amount of brainwash can excuse half the shit this man pulled when he was the Winter Soldier. Sam may not get the same intel as Steve, but he knows the rumors. However, for the sake of his friend and for that kid…he hopes Banner’s plan works.

                “Peter’s coming down soon,” Sam drops.

Barnes’ face does a flip of emotions from dead to livewire.

                “How?” he whispers.

Sam pinches the bridge of his nose.

                “Dr. Bruce Banner called me the other day. Told me this ridiculous plan to get at least one of our ‘leaders,’” he air quotes, “out of his slump. I didn’t go along with it at first, but I got another call from Rhodes today. He says their side worked.”

Barnes’ leans forward, intense look in his eyes. Sam stays seated. The waitress returns with the coffee.

                “Oh,” she says. “I’m sorry. About earlier.” She blushes and smiles sweetly at them.

Sam feels his stomach drop when he realizes what she meant.

                “Funny girl,” Barnes says. He gulps his steaming mug. “Now, what do we have to do?”

Sam stares because he cannot even take a sip yet from his mug because of the heat.

                “Huh,--right. Basically, what I’ve been trying to do. Get Steve out of bed cleaned up and looking like America’s Golden Boy and not a hobo. I need you to help me—”

                “Done.”

The man shoots out of his chair causing it to fall back.

                “Wait! Barnes, I gotta pay the tab first.”

Barnes’ halts. He lifts the chair with his one arm. Sam count to ten in his head.

                “We have to be smart about this. ‘cause you can’t barge in there after weeks of this silent treatment. So, you need to sit and practice what you’re going to say or Steve’ll clock you again and I don’t’ think we can afford a hotel anymore.”

Barnes’ glare could kill. However, the man takes another gulp of coffee just as the key lime pie arrives for Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's back.  
> And in these last few chapters I am using real world locations in Washington D.C. so if anyone has been to those places I will be mentioning or lives in the D.C. please comment if I have something wrong.


	22. Bucky's Lament

Bucky stared the door down. Never in his brainwashed career would a door be such a threat. Behind this one…Steve was on his bed possibly unbathed and unshaven. Bucky had taken on troops of soldiers and special ops. He had shot men and women unseen from incredibly hidden vantage points. So, it should be easy to knock on this door and force his old friend to get off the man’s ass.

Bucky froze. He froze with Sam Wilson staring behind him.

Bucky turns his head as Sam makes a “well” gesture. Bucky closes his eyes and breathes. He needs to think of nothing. Nothing in his head except the mission. He knocks.

                “Just come in and get it over with, Sam,” croaks a voice.

Bucky bites his lower lip. This is not right.

                “Go in,” whispered Sam.

Bucky forges on and sees Steve without his own grief for the first time in weeks. The man is broken. Steve’s eyes are laden with bags and red streaks. His hair unkempt and wily along with his days old pajama pants and shirt. Bucky halts for a second but continues. Sam should be gone by now, and then the front door closes. They are alone together for the first time.

                “Hey,uh, punk…?” Bucky says.

Steve huffs a breath.

                “What do you want, Bucky?” he says, defeated.

That strikes to the former soldier’s heart. Captain America sounding defeated.

                “We need to talk about Tony,” Bucky begins. That was for later in the plan, but he needs to get a rise out of Steve first. And, sure enough, Bucky is facing the wall, his one arm gripped tightly behind his back and Steve breathing heavily.

                “You don’t say his name! You don’t get to say his name!” Steve yells.

Bucky ignores his fighter instincts and relaxes. Eventually, Steve lets go. Bucky looks at him. There is life in that miserable face, but it is muted. Hollow almost.

                “Why are you here?” he asks.

Bucky swallows the lump in his throat. Memories of a night weeks’ past returns. He makes a fist and swallows that too.

                “I’m here because you’re an idiot.”

Steve looks at him, truly sees him without anger or sadness. Bucky goes on.

                “Pete’s missing you. He keeps asking about you and wondering when you’ll come back. Know how I know: Sam. He’s been able to take this shit from you and your prince of drama and actually ask about Pete. That doctor, the one who turns into the Hulk, keeps Sam updated on everything. When you don’t listen to him, I do.”

Steve rose from his permanent place on the bed.

                “wh—how is Peter?”

                “Not good,” Bucky says. He thinks of what Sam told him. How much he should reveal to this newly awakened Steve. But, then again, Steve never liked bullies. “Pete’s getting bullied. A lot.”

Steve stares at him. Opens his mouth, shuts it. Repeats this motion like a fish.

                “I need a shower,” Steve says.

Bucky opens his mouth but Steve is already in the en suite shower. Water runs and Bucky hears the man go under with no fuss.

Bucky walks to the door and knocks. He is off his depth for now and only wishes to tread lightly.

                “No, you can’t come in,” Steve yells, his voice distorted.

Bucky feels a blush. He tamps his heated skin down.

                “What do you think you’re doing?” Bucky yells in reply.

A minute passes. Then: “Let me finish the shower and I’ll tell you!”

So, Bucky does the only thing he can. He sits on the bed and wonders how long it has been since Steve’s sheets were washed.

Reflections of the past weeks here cascade in Bucky’s mind; he too had been out of sorts. Unlike Steve, Bucky did not have a room. Sam got the small guest room, while he lived on the couch. It meant that Sam had been able to help one person out. He forced Bucky to move and to wash and to take care of himself.

Bucky sighed. He owed Sam a big debt. Like the one he owed Steve. These two men had kept him safe and alive, hidden from the world that would see the Winter Soldier hung. And he repaid them by essentially ruining Steve’s marriage and destroying Sam’s home. He owed Peter too, for giving him a chance instead of being afraid.

                “I will make this right,” he said. “I will not hurt you or Peter again.”

 

The door to the bathroom opened, steam pouring out. Bucky kept his gaze averted as Steve quickly grabbed clean clothes from the dresser donned in a bath robe.

The man closed the door and came out again to Bucky’s relief dressed fully. And shining as Captain America did.

                “Trying something new,” Bucky said and gestured to the trimmed beard.

                “I don’t have time to shave it all off or go to a barber,” he said. Steve returned to his dresser and started to take out clothes.

                “Going somewhere,” Bucky stated.

                “New York. I’m getting Tony back and apologizing to Peter.”

Bucky stood, his anger in full force.         

                “Are you fucking kidding me!”

“Bucky, I told you already its Tony and—”

“This isn’t’ about that!” Bucky yells. “Steve, you idiot, you can’t waltz and expect all this to blow over. Your kid’s been asking for you for weeks and suddenly you show up out of the blue. You think that’s fair to him. You really think he’ll be okay if this happens again.”

Steve stops in his actions. He shakes, tears streaking down his cheeks. The shirt in his hands bunges up.

                “What else can I do,” he says. “I’ve wasted time. I’ve wasted every time I had to…swallow my fucking pride and….I miss them. I miss them. I have to fix this, somehow. Don’t you get that, Bucky?”

Bucky does, more than Steve or anyone will comprehend.

                “Yes, but not like this. Not charging back to them; Sam’s been talking to the doctor. They got Tony out of his stupor and Peter’s doing better. They’re both coming down soon.”

                “Really?” Steve says, hope in his voice.

Bucky nods.

                “I don’t know if Stark’s coming to see you, but Peter will.”

Steve drops his shirt. Bucky finds himself in an embrace. Shock dissipates as he places his arm around Steve.

_This is a start_ , Bucky thinks.

* * *

 

Steve should not be here. He knows he is pushing for more when he and Tony have a lot of damage to repair. But, he’s always been that way. Pushing the boundaries and hoping for the best. The jet has landed and as the stairs are propped to the door, Steve stands at rest.

                “Pops!” screams Peter’s voice.

The boy, unhindered by the stairs, jumps off in perfect landing and runs to him. Steve runs to him and they meet in a crash with Steve’s arms full of Peter. The boy is giggling and nuzzling against his beard.

                “I missed you, pops.”

Those four words break Steve.

                “I’ve missed you, too, spider monkey.”

He sniffs and feels Peter crying against his chest.

                “Shh, shh, papa’s here. I’m here,” he says.

A shadow covers them. Steve looks up. His breath is taken away by the visage of Tony. Tony kneels down and pats Peter’s back.

                “I’m here too,” Tony says.


	23. A Day Out in D.C. (or We Need to Talk)

Peter swung back and forth in his dads’ arms. They carried him through the streets of the Capital with his parents together in Lincoln Park. He felt like he was flying or jumping in style like when Nat helped him with his skate tricks. They did not talk much, but Peter was happy for that. Talking had too much energy.

He made a popping noise with his mouth. Pops chuckled. Peter smiled big. It dimmed because they had to talk. He wanted to know what happened to Pops and Dad. But, he wanted them more to spend time with him.

                “Hey look,” Dad says pointing. There’s a hot dog stand nearby. “I think it’s been a while since we sat out for a dog in the park,” he says squeezing Peter’s hand.

                “Sounds grand,” Pops says.

They get three dogs. Plain with ketchup for Peter, fully loaded with chilly for Pops, and Dad gets his with extra sauerkraut. A coke, a bottled water, and a small apple juice are added too as they find a shady bench to sit on. Again, Peter is between his parents. He leans closer to Pops because he has been too far away. Pops places his big hand on Peter’s head and ruffles it.

                “What should we do next?” asks Dad.

Pops looks at him. He smiles but it is not a real one. Peter takes a big bite from his hot dog and almost chokes.

                “Peter!” Pops pats his back as the piece of meat and bread slides down hard. Peter sips his juice. “You know better than to take big bites like that.” Pops face scrunches up, as if a bad smell came around.

Peter sighs.

                “It’s fine, just too excited for today, huh, Pete?”

                “Yeah,” Peter says. He sips his juice a bit more before taking a smaller bite.

Dad and Pops are quiet again.   

                “Can we go to the monument?” Peter asks. “Harry’s been there and so have Gwen and they both say it’s boring but that getting to the top is fun because the monument’s high like the lady.”

                “Statue of Liberty,” Dad says to Pops.

Pops chuckles again. “Of course, we can go there. We can walk or take the Metrobus.”

                “Steve,” Dad says. Pops looks at Dad. “You and Peter may have the energy of a perpetual motion wheel, but I gotta rest my legs at some points.”

                “Bus it is then,” Pops says.

Again, Peter is between them being lifted and flying with his parents together.

They need to talk. Peter knows that. Uncle Bruce told him that he has to make his dumb parents talk to each other. But, for now, all he wants is to be with them. All together.

* * *

 

The day feels like a dream at some points. As if the separation never happened. They spend the day together, Peter slowly coming out of his shell and running around like any normal kid. Being incognito helps keep people away as Peter can roam without them worrying about distractions.

Steve wears a simple baseball cap and glasses. His beard is what really hides him. Tony is dressed down from his usual suits in pair of ripped jeans and a Star Trek t-shirt. Though, he still looks like money because those jeans are designer and his sunglasses are definitely not clearance aisle.

It stirs Steve inside to be so close to him again.

Tony looks at him and wonders why his beard makes his face even more charming and rugged then the soldier’s old clean-cut style. Even the stupid glasses do not hide his blue eyes.

Peter returns to them and says that the monument is tiny compared to the Lady Liberty.

                “That’s the New York in you, Peter,” Steve says.

Peter sticks out his tongue but grabs Steve’s hand.

The three of them spend the rest of the day exploring Capitol Hill and the tourist traps. Peter loving every moment of it as he calls for ‘Pops’ or ‘Dad’ every time the boy saw something exciting.

Nearing evening, Peter begins to yawn and sway in his enthusiasm.

Steve picks him up in his arms.

                “Getting sleepy there, spider monkey,” he says when Peter pinches his face to hold in a yawn.

                “We have reservations at the Capitol Hill.” Tony looks at the Tiffany watch on his wrist. “We should’ve headed there earlier.”

Peter clings harder to Steve.

                “Pops can come,” he says.

Tony purses his lips, but nods. A knot in Steve’s belly untangles.

 

 

The room is opulent as expected and their bags are waiting for them.

Tony does not go to them. Instead, he gestures Steve to follow him to the master bedroom. He still holds Peter in his arms who has fallen asleep.

                “Just drop him in the bed,” Tony says deadpan as he opens the duvet and sheets.

Steve follows the order and carefully deposits his son on the bed. Peter does not stir. Tony goes to taking off the boy’s shoes.

                “You can leave now,” Tony says.

Steve takes a breath through his nose. He sits on the bed next to Tony.

                “I’m not leaving until we clear the air.”

Anger boils in Tony’s stomach. He grinds his teeth for a second, stops, and tucks Peter in bed.

                “Out of the room,” he says.

* * *

 

The two men sit opposite on the giant sofa. The plush of the cushions sink in under Steve’s weight. He glances at Tony who rocks back and forth in rhythm with his tapping foot.

                “Tony--”

                “No, just stop there Cap. I have a lot of bile to get out at you,” Tony says. He stands and starts pacing. “And by any heavenly body I am going to do it.”

Steve nods.

                “First, I have every right to be jealous of Barnes. You two were close. And yeah, maybe you didn’t see it but I did. Those old photos capture quite a bit of depth. How you kept protecting him no matter what he did. Don’t count the HYDRA shit, I mean sneaking into our son’s room. So, no, you can’t look at me like some crazy bitch. I have enough to worry about being married to you, America’s Golden Boy. Enough fucking gossip of me being the unfaithful playboy. How you’d think it was real because you’re so fucking honest.”

                “I ne—” Steve begins.

                “No. Remember, it’s my time.” Tony stops pacing to look down at Steve. He shakes in his stance. “Second, protecting him. From me. From me, Steve. Your husband. Protecting him from me, for killing my parents. If you hadn’t felt bad…if you didn’t why he said what he said…” Tony stops. Tears pool in his eyes.

Steve leans in closer. He swallows his own lump.

                “Can I speak now?” he asks.

                “Go ahead.”

Steve stands up to be at level with Tony. He does not touch.

                “If I knew….even without Bucky’s ultimatum I’d still tell you not to go after them. Not to become something you aren’t. I would do everything for you Tony.”

Tony stares in Steve’s steely eyes. His breath quickens in realization.

                “Anyone else, but Bucky, Tony. I would do everything to ensure you had some peace at night. That I could take this one ghost from you,” Steve says.

                “You would kill for me,” Tony whispers.

Steve nods. “I’ve done it before,” he says without preamble.

Tony’s leg give out. Steve catches him

                “You and Peter are the best things in my life. You kept me going after I was discovered. You made me the happiest man alive. Because of you I have all I need. Peter came and I knew we were complete. I could live without Bucky, Peggy, and every part of my past because I had my future with you.”

                “You shouldn’t say those things,” Tony says. “That’s not right for you to do that. You’re supposed to be the good one.” He grabs a fist full of Steve’s shirt.

Steve lowers them to the sofa.

                “I’m not an angel, Tony. I’m not America’s Golden Boy. Never was. That title was given to me and the legend of Captain America. I’m Steve Rogers. I grew up in the slums of Brooklyn and had no father. You know me. You know me better than most.” Steve shifts Tony’s still body in his lap. “Despite everything else, I am a man willing to protect his own. At any cost.”

                “Bucky?” Tony says, small.

Steve closes his eyes a pained expression on his face.

                “I have damage to repair with him too.” Steve opens his eyes. “I love you. I love you Tony. No one comes close. Please, believe that.”

                “I do,” Tony says. Tears streak down his cheeks. He moves his arms finally and holds Steve. “I know. I just, Steve, I can’t forgive him. I can’t stop the envy. I’m selfish. You and Peter are the best in my life and I can’t lose you again. Please, don’t make me forgive him.”

Steve squeezes Tony in the hug.             

                “You don’t have to. You owe me nothing for this. I should’ve come up with a better plan to tell you. I should’ve talked to you more. I hurt you, Tony.”

                “I fucked up. I fucked like I always do,” Tony says between hiccups.

They sit together in the plush of the sofa. Slowly, they get horizontal, Steve stroking Tony’s back. Steve picks them up and singlehandedly brings them to the bed where Peter is sound asleep. He places Tony on Peter’s side facing the boy. He lays on the other side facing the boy’s back.

Each man puts an arm over Peter, holding and holding each other.

                “Tony,” Steve whispers. “Can I come back home?”

                “Only if you shave that stupid beard off,” Tony says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second to last chapter, which I have half-way done. But, it is blocking me for the moment so hopefully I will have it done by the end of the week.


	24. Together Again and Ahead

Phil Coulson sat down in front of Director Fury. SHIELD had taken on a more cloak and dagger operation since the HYDRA discovery, but it was still an agency meant for good. That is why even as they both sat in a nondescript student coffee shop out near Columbia University Phil still saw Fury as the director.

                “Report,” Fury said after taking his first sip of Americano.

Phil hesitated.

                “I have Hill waiting for me with the same updates,” Fury said sipping his drink again. “This is damn good. That said Coulson if you don’t answer me and tell me the truth I’ll have her give me the report, and then dig for the rest myself.”

                “I have assurance Captain Rogers and Mr. Stark have resolved their differences. They are living together at the Stark Mansion. Parker has been taken out of his private school and will be transferred to a charter come next spring. The school is the same as his friend Harry Osborn attends. Stark and Rogers are both cautious to keep that secret from Mr. Osborn,” Coulson says. “The Avengers, excluding Thor, are all present in the same place currently too. They are having a bit of a vacation together and Parker has begun his tutoring lessons again. And for Wilson’s destroyed home, it has been resolved because Captain Rogers gave Wilson his old apartment.” He takes a sip from his pineapple-kiwi infused juice. “It is also confirmed Rogers is hiding the Winter Soldier.”

                “Good. Make sure he knows we know and to keep that man under wraps,” Fury says.

Phil eyes bulge. Fury smirks.

                “I am not the director anymore, Coulson. I’m a man with a few good people doing everything to keep the world from burning. James Buchanan Barnes was a good man too before he was messed up. Since his emancipation, there has been no sighting of him beyond harassing a superfamily. I think he’s better off like this.” Fury finishes his cup.

Phil just stares mouth open. Fury rolls his eye at him.

                “Quit smiling. I plan to see if he’s an asset before anything else. Send Romanov to test him and don’t let her slide it to Rogers like she did with our sorcerer informant,” Fury says. He gets up and leaves the shop. “I’ll be seeing you, Coulson.”

And Coulson is alone. For once, the weight of his job, his duty, and the suffering from his resurrection lifts. He stays to finish his fruity drink and thinks about Peter’s smiling at him when he can tell the boy that he will never be taken away. That is a small blessing.

* * *

 

Stephen reentered his parlor-one of them-to find Wong staring wistfully out the window. Being sorcerers, it became tedious to keep track of time in one plane and though it only felt like months to Stephen, he knew it had been two years since that Peter boy had come. Thus, Wong’s wistful look.

                “You do not need to fret, old friend,” Stephen said.

He took immense joy in Wong’s startled reaction. Seldom did Stephen have that advantage over the other.

                “Peter will return to us, not now, but when he is older. I know you miss him,” Stephen says.

His longtime friend and manservant bows his head. Since leaving Kamar-Taj in the wake of the Ancient One’s death, Wong had vowed silence and servitude to him, but for the man he had not taken to strangers well. It seems the meeting with Peter had broken some of the wall Wong had built around him. Stephen places a hand on Wong.

                “He’ll come back,” Stephen says. “And when he does, it won’t be fleeting.”

That brightens Wong’s face. He smiles genuinely. Stephen smiles back.

* * *

 

Peter finds Uncle Bruce in the kitchen with Aunt Nat. He sits at the counter with papers littering everywhere while Natasha cuts up an apple.

                “ _Utro, moy malen’kiy pauk_ ,” Natasha greets smoothly.

                “Utro, tetya Nat,” Peter says, sounding out each word carefully.

                “You’re getting there. What brings you to the kitchen this early, it’s not lunch yet,” Natasha inquires.

                “Do we have any string?” Peter asks. He holds a fragile piece of shoelace that splits in two. “I tried to use this but it didn’t work.”

Natasha hums. She rummages in the drawers of the large kitchen, passing by Bruce, who awakens from his diligent reading. Peter steps closer to poke him in the ribs.

                “Ow. Hello Peter, what’re you up to?” Bruce asks.

                “String,” Peter replies.

In that instant, Natasha hands him a piece of string. It is a roll of fishing line string.

                “This might hold up for some time. However, get Clint to help you cut it.”

Peter vibrates on his feet a big grin on his face taking the roll. Bruce’s eyes bulge in alarm.

                “Woah, woah. Peter, what are you trying to do?”

The boy twirls the roll in his hands and shuffles nervously. He looks both ways in the kitchen exits and up to the ceiling. Peter motions for Bruce and Natasha to come closer.

                “It’s a surprise,” he whispers.

                “Then see if you’re webs can work. That fishing line stuff can cut your little fingers,” Bruce says. He feels his cheeks warm with both Peter and Nat give him a look.

                “I’ll be smart,” Peter says.

He runs off and the two are left alone again. It is nice because the house is still full of everyone. Minus Thor who is still on Asgard; but to be alone in a confined space with two quiet people is enough for Natasha and Bruce. Though, with Peter back to normal, the house seems brighter.

* * *

 

Bucky sways on the hammock. The weather’s getting to be chilly outside with fall in full swing for now though the midday is warm enough for an old man lie down in the breeze. He opens his eyes to the slightest sound. Bucky bolts up. Standing a few feet away is Stark. Behind Stark is Steve.

Stark walks to him, determination in his stride. He holds a brief case. Steve remains in place but his body language is telling. The man will jump in at any time.

Bucky jumps out of the hammock and stands ready too for whatever this is.

Stark stops a few inches from him.

                “Do you-do you even remember them?” Stark asks.

                “I remember everything,” Bucky says.

He sees the punch seconds before Stark, but he lets the man do it. The punch is not the hardest he’s taken certainly not the worst. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

                “And the thing with Steve,” Stark snarls out.

Bucky gapes his mouth open. He closes his eyes. For this, he has to swallow his pride.

                “I’m sorry, Stark. I hurt you. I hurt Peter. I wasn’t thinking of what Steve had. Or what it might do to him,” Bucky says.

                “You don’t get to be sorry,” Stark says. He leans in closer. Bucky smells the expensive cologne this man has. “I may be the biggest screw up, but you almost fucked up Steve and Peter’s life. You don’t deserve forgiveness or to be seen again.”

                “You’re right. I don’t deserve this life or to be happy.” Bucky looks Stark in the eye. “But, I accept the damage I caused. I did those things without the excuse of mind control. You have every right to be pissed at me. You have every right to never let me near you or your family again.” Bucky sees Stark take a step back. He steps forward. “I want you to know this one bit of knowledge: for all I’ve done to you, I am truly sorry.”

Stark rubs his face. He lets out a humorless laugh.

                “Barnes, you asshole. You should be an asshole.” Stark picks up the brief case. Bucky notices it is metal. “I can’t stop Peter from seeing you if I tried. He trusts you. That’s enough for now. But, you can’t ever come back here alone and if you are alone with Steve for a minute I will rip off your other arm.”

Stark walks back to Steve. They kiss. The sting in Bucky’s chest lessens every day. And then, a blur of red and blue comes out of the house to the mansion’s backyard.

Peter runs up to him, hands behind the boy’s back. He grins Cheshire-like and for a moment Bucky fears all hell will break loose. But, the thing behind the boy’s back appears.

                “They’re so you won’t be alone,” Peter says.

Two plush toys, a cat and a mouse, dressed in the superhero personae’s of Steve and Stark. Their hands are tied by a white layer of string and something else. Bucky takes it in his hand.

                “Thanks kid,” he says.

                “You’re welcome,” Peter says. He goes to hug Bucky around the legs. Bucky stiffens for a moment. With his arm he holds the toys in his elbow while he pats Peter’s brown hair.

The boy lets go and runs to his parents. Stark kneels on the ground to catch Peter. Bucky feels the sting evaporate completely. This was worth it. Coming back from the dead to see this. He has his new life ahead of him now and a new purpose to find. Bucky feels a smile on his face.

Steve looks at him and smiles back.

They have nothing to gain from the past. All they needs lies ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished! I am done with this piece. I am not done with the idea, but for this piece I am done. I want to say that when I started this story I had no earthly idea of where it was going, but I had superfamily in mind all the way. So, this is two years worth of work. I love this piece and happy to see it finally finished. Thanks to everyone who still read it and left kudos.


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